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Set up and electiotyped. Published March, 1 i) 1 4. 







"one who never turned HIS BACK BUT 






This volume is the result of some studies that I felt 
impelled to make when, about three years ago, certain 
sections of the labor movement in the United States were 
discussing vehemently political action versus direct ac- 
tion. A number of causes combined to produce a seri- 
ous and critical controversy. The Industrial Workers of 
the World were carrying on a lively agitation that later 
culminated in a series of spectacular strikes. With ideas 
and methods that were not only in opposition to those of 
the trade unions, but also to those of the socialist party, 
the new organization sought to displace the older organii 
zations by what it called the "one Big Union." There 
were many in the older organizations who firmly believed 
in industrial unionism, and the dissensions which arose 
were not so much over that question as over the an- 
tagonistic character of the new movement and its ad- 
vocacy here of the violent methods employed by the revo- 
lutionary section of the French unions. The most force- 
ful and active spokesman of these methods was Mr. 
William D. Haywood, and, largely as a result of his agi- 
tation, la greve generate and le sabotage became the sub- 
jects of the hour in labor and socialist circles. In 191 1 
Mr. Haywood and Mr. Frank Bohn published a booklet, 
entitled Industrial Socialism, in which they urged that 
the worker should "use any weapon which will win his 
fight." * They declared that, as "the present laws of 

*P. 57. 


property are made by and for the capitalists, the workers 
should not hesitate to break them." * 

The advocacy of such doctrines alarmed the older so- 
cialists, who were familiar with the many disasters that 
had overtaken the labor movement in its earlier days, 
and nearly all of them assailed the direct actionists. J^Iji. 
Eug ene y. De bs, Mr. Victor L. Berger^ Mr. J ohn Spargo, 

Mr. MornsTKirquitrand many others, less -v^ell known, 
combated "the new methods" in vigorous language. Mr. 
Hillquit dealt with the question in a manner that imme- 
diately awakened the attention of every active socialist. 
Condemning without reserve every resort to lawbreaking 
and violence, and insisting that both were "ethically un- 
justifiable and tactically suicidal," Mr. Hillquit pointed oiit| 
that whenever any group or section of the labor move-j 
ment "has embarked upon a policy of 'breaking the law' 
or using 'any weapons which will win the fight,' whether 
such policy was styled 'terrorism,' 'propaganda of the 
deed,' 'direct action,' 'sabotage,' or 'anarchism,' it has in- 
variably served to demoralize and destroy the movement, 
by attracting to it professional criminals, infesting it 
with spies, leading the workers to needless and senseless 
slaughter, and ultimately engendering a spirit of disgust 
and reaction. It was this advocacy of 'lawbreaking^: 
which Marx and Engels fought so severely in the Inter- 
national and which finally led to the disruption of the 
first great international parliament of labor, and the so- 
cialist party of every country in the civilized world has 
since uniformly and emphatically rejected that policy." f 
There could be no better introduction to the present" 
volume than these words of Mr. Hillquit, and it will, I 
think, be clear to the reader that the history of the labor- 

*P. 57. 

fThe New York Call, November 20, 191 1. 


movement during the last half-century fully sustains Mr. 
Hillquit's position. The problem of methods has always 
been a vital matter to the labor movement, and, for i 
hundred years at least, the quarrels now dividing sytidi- 
calists and socialists have disturbed that movement. In 
the Chartist days "the "physical f orcists " o pposed the 
'feoral f bHi"sIs,''^'73^ri37 later "dissensions over the same' 
q uestion occurred between th e Bakouninists and thei 
Marxists. Since then anarchists and social demo-/ 
crats, direct actionists and political actionists, syndical- 
ists and socialists have continued the battle. I have at- 
tempted here to present the arguments made by botl 
sides of this controversy, and, while no doubt my bias is 
perfectly clear, I hope I have presented fairly the posi-i- 
tion of each of the contending elements. Fortunately, 
the .direct actionists have exercised a detertn'ii irg itvfl.ugn/'<» 
only in a. few places, and evervwhere , in the.end -JJie.vic- 
jory of. those vi?ho were contending for t he employm ent 
of peaceable means has~^eri'coinpIe Fer'"'Xlr^idY in this 
country, as a result of the recent controversy, it is writ- 
ten in the constitution of the socialist party that "any 
member of the party who opposes political action or ad- 
vocates crime, sabotage, or other methods of violence as 
a weapon of the working class to aid in its emancipation 
shall be expelled from membership in the party." * 
Adopted by the national convention of the party in 191 1, 
this clause was ratified at a general referendum of all the 
membership of the party. It is clear, therefore, that the 
immense majority of socialists are determined to employ 
peaceable and legal methods of action. 

It is, of course, perfectly obvious that the methods 
to be employed in the struggles between classes, as be- 
tween nations, cannot be predetermined. And, while 

* Article II, Section 6. 


the socialists everywhere have condemned the use of vio- 
le nt mea sujies . anr~are~ no w exercising .ever^Li'?^^'^--^* 
thieir command to keep the struggle between labor and 
capital otTTeg^.'^ grouncC" everifs " aloner will determine 
whether the j^reat social problems of our day can be set- 
tle^p.eai5eabiyr'*"f he entire matter is largeiy in the hands 
of the ruling classes. And, while the socialists in all 
countries are determined not to allow themselves to be 
provoked into acts of despair by temporary and fleeting 
methods of repression, conditions may of course arise 
where no organization, however powerful, could prevent 
the masses from breaking into an open and bloody con- 
flict. On one memorable occasion (March 31, 1886), 
August Bebel uttered some impressive words on this 
subject in the German Reichstag. "Herr von Putt- 
kamer," said Bebel, "calls to mind the speech which I 
delivered in 1881 in the debate on the Socialist Law a 
few days after the murder of the Czar. I did not then 
glorify regicide. I declared that a system like that pre- 
vailing in Russia necessarily gave birth to Nihilism and 
must necessarily lead to deeds of violence. Yes, I do 
not hesitate to say that if you should inaugurate such 
a system in Germany it Would of necessity lead to 
deeds of violence with us as well. (A deputy called 
out: 'The German Monarchy?') The German Monar- 
chy would then certainly be affected, and I do not hesi- 
tate to say that I should be one of the first to lend a hand 
in the work, for all measures are allowable against such 
a system." * I take it that Bebel was, in this instance, 
simply pointing out to the German bureaucracy the in- 
evitable consequences of the Russian system. At that 
very moment he was restraining hundreds of thousands' 
* Quoted by Dawson, "German Socialism and Ferdinand Las- 
salle," p. 272. 


of his followers from acts of despair, yet he could not 
resist warning the German rulers that the time might 
come in that country when no considerations whatever 
could persuade men to forego the use of the most violent 
retaliative measures. This view is, of course, well estab- 
lished in our national history, and our Declaration of In- 
dependence, as well as many of our State constitutions, 
asserts that it is both the right and the duty of the 
people to overthrow by any means in their power an op- 
pressive and tyrannical government. This was, of 
course, always the teaching of what Marx liked to call 
"the bourgeois democrats." It was, in fact, their only 
conception of revolution. 

/I^he socialist idea of revolution is quite a different 
lone. Insurrection plays no necessary part in it, and no 
[one sees more clearly than the socialist that nothing could 
prove more disastrous to the democratic cause than to 
have the present class conflict break into a civil war. If 
such a war becomes necessary, it will be in spite of the 
organized socialists, who, in every country of the world, 
not only seek to avoid, but actually caademn, riOtSQs, tem- 
pestuous, and violent measures. Such measures do not 
fit into their philosopRy)" which sees, as the cause of our 
present intolerable social wrongs, not the malevolence of 
individuals or of classes, but the workings of certain 
economic laws. One can cut off the head of an indi^ 
vidual, but it is not possible to cut off the head of an 
economic law. From the beginning of the modern SO"*^ 
cialist movement, this has been perfectly clear to the so- 
cialist, whose philosophy has taught him that appeals to) 
violence tend, as Engels has pointed out, to obscure tha 
understanding of the real development of things. — J 
The dissensions over the use of force, that have been 
so continuous and pag^jpjjate in the labor movement, 


ajjigg from two diametrically opposed points of view. 
Dne is at bottom anarchistic, and looks upon all social 
evils as the result of individual wrong-doing. The other 
is at bottom socialistic, and looks upon all social evils as 
(in the main the result of economic and social laws. To 
hSiose who believe there are good trusts and bad trusts, 
good capitalists and bad capitalists, and that this is an 
adequate analysis of our economic ills, there is, of course, 
after all, nothing left but hatred of individuals and, in 
the extreme case, the desire to remove those individuals. 
To those, on the other hand, who see in certain und erly- 
ing e conom ic forces t he source of nearlv all of our d is- 
tressing soci al evils, individual hatred and malice ca n 
!^aloeia,jcgaIiftUl.Q.aiaieaJi- This volume, on its historical 
side, as well as in its survey of the psychology of the 
various elements in the labor movement, is a contribu- 
tion to the study of the reactions that affect various 
minds and temperaments in the face of modern social 
wrongs. If one's point of view is that of the anarchist, 
he is led inevitably to make his war upon individuals. 
The more sensitive and sincere he is, the more bitter 
and implacable becomes that war. If one's point of view 
is based on what is now called the economic interpreta- 
tipn of history, one is emancipated, in so far as that is 
possible for emotional beings, from all hatred of indi- 
viduals,^ and one sees before him only the necessity of 
readjusting the economic basis of our common life in 
order to achieve a more nearly perfect social order. 

In contrasting the temperaments, the points of view, 
the philosophy, and the methods of these two antagonis- 
tic minds, I have been forced to take two extremes, the 
Bakouninist anarchist and the Marxian socialist. In the 
case of the former, it has been necessary to present the 
views of a particular school of anarchism, more or less 


regardless of certain other schools. Proudhon, Stirner, 
W^r^ Tand luckgf^ do not advocate violent measures, 
and Tolstoi, Ibsen, Spencer, Thoreau, and Emerson — 
although having the anarchist point of view — can hardly 
oe conceived of as advocating violent measures. It will 
be obvious to the reader that I have not dealt with the 
philosophical anarchism, or whatever one may call it, 
of these last. I have confined myself to the anarchism 
of those who have endeavored to carry out their princi- 
ples in the democratic movement of their time and to the 
deeds of those who threw themselves into the active life 
about them and endeavored to impress both their ideas 
and methods upon the awakening world of labor. It is 
the anarchism of these men that the world knows. By 
deeds and not by words have they written their definition 
of anarchism, and I am taking and using the term in this 
volume in the sense in which it is used most commonly 
by people in general. If this offends the anarchists of the 
non-resistant or passive-resistant type, it cannot be 
helped. It is the meaning that the most active of the 
anarchists have themselves given it. 

I have sought to take my statements from first-hand 
sources only, although in a few cases I have had to de- 
pend on secondary sources. I am deeply indebted to Mr. 
Herman Schlueter, editor of the New Yorker Volkszei- 
tung, for lending me certain rare books and pamphlets, 
and also for reading carefully and critically the entire 
manuscript. With his help I have managed to get every 
document that has seemed to me essential. At the end 
of the volume will be found a complete list of the au- 
thorities which I have consulted. I have to regret that I 
could not read, before sending this manuscript to the 
publisher, the four volumes just published of the corre- 
spondence between Marx and Engels (Der Briefwechsel 


zwischen Friedrich Engels und Karl Marx 1844 , &w 188^, 
herausgegeben von A. Bebel und Ed. Bernstein, J- H. W. 
Dietz, Stuttgart, 1913). I must also express here my 
gratitude to Mr. Morris Hillquit and to Miss Helen 
Phelps Stokes for making many valuable suggestions, as 
well as my indebtedness to Miss Helen Bernice Sweeney 
and Mr. Sidney S. Bobbe for their most capable secre- 
tarial assistance. Special appreciation is due my wife for 
her helpfulness and painstaking care at many difficult 
stages of the work. 

Highland Farm, 
Noroton Heights, 
November i, 1913. 





I. The Father of Tekrorism 3 

II. A Series of Insurrections ..... 28 

III. The Propaganda of the Deed 49 

IV. JOHANN Most in America , 62 

V. A Series of Tragedies "jy 

VI. Seeking the Causes 90 



VII. The Birth of Modern Socialism . 

VIII. The Battle Between Marx and Bakounin 

IX. The Fight for Existence 

X. The Newest Anarchism 

XL The Oldest Anarchism 

XII. Visions of Victory 


Index ^ 










Violence and the Labor 



"Dante tells us," writes Macaulay, "that he saw, in 
Malebolge, a strange encounter between a human form 
and a serpent. The enemies, after cruel wounds inflicted, 
stood for a time glaring on each other. A great cloud 
surrounded them, and then a wonderful metamorphosis 
began. Each creature was transfigured into the likeness 
of its antagonist. The serpent's tail divided into two 
legs; the man's legs intertwined themselves into a tail. 
The body of the serpent put forth arms ; the arms of the 
man shrank into his body. At length the serpent stood 
up a man, and spake ; the man sank down a serpent, and 
glided hissing away." ( i ) Something, I suppose, not un- 
like this appalling picture of Dante's occurs in the world 
whenever a man's soul becomes saturated with hatred. 
It will be remembered, for instance, that even Shelley's 
all-forgiving and sublime Prometheus was forced by the 
torture of the furies to cry out in anguish, 

"Whilst I behold such execrable shapes; 
Methinks I grow like what I contemplate." 

It would not be strange, then, if here and there a man's 
entire nature were transfigured when he sees a monster 



appear, cruel, pitiless, and unyielding, crushing to the 
earth the weak, the weary, and the heavy-laden. Nor is 
it strange that in Russia — the blackest Malebolge in the 
modern world — a litter of avengers is born ^every genera- 
tion of the savage brutality, the murderous oppression, 
the Satanic infamy of the Russian government. And 
who does not love those innumerable Russian youths and 
maidens, driven to acts of defiance — ^hopeless, futile, yet 
necessary — if for no other reason than to fulfill their 
duty to humanity and thus perhaps quiet a quivering con- 
science? There is something truly Promethean in the 
struggle of the Russian youth against their overpowering 
antagonist. They know that the price of one single act 
of protest is their lives. Yet, to the eternal credit of hu- 
manity, thousands of them have thrown themselves naked 
on the spears of their enemy, to become an example of 
sacrificial revolt. And can any of us wonder that when 
even this tragic seeding of the martyrs proved unfruit- 
ful, many of the Russian youth, brooding over the ir- 
remediable wrongs of their people, were driven to in- 
sanity and suicide? And, if all that was possible, would 
it be surprising if it also happened that at least one 
flaming rebel should have developed a philosophy of war- 
fare no less terrible than that of the Russian bureaucracy 
itself ? I do not know, nor would I allow myself to sug- 
gest, that Michael Bakounin, who brought into Western 
Europe and planted there the seeds of terrorism, came 
to be like what he contemplated, or that his philosophy,,, 
and tactics of action were altogether a reflection of those*" 
he opposed. Yet, if that were the case, one could better 
understand that bitter and bewildering character. 

That there is some justification for speculation on 
these grounds is indicated by the heroes of Bakounin. 
He always meant to write the story of Prometheus, and 


he never spoke of Satan without an admiration that ap- 
proached adoration. They were the two unconquerable 
enemies of absolutism. He was "the eternal rebel," 
Bakounin once said of Satan, "the first free-thinker and 
emancipator of the worlds." (2) In another place he 
speaks of Proudhon as having the instinct of a revolu- 
tionist, because "he adored Satan and proclaimed anar- 
chy." (3) In still another place he refers to the prole- 
tariat of Paris as "the modern Satan, the great rebel, 
vanquished, but not pacified." (4) In the statutes of 
his secret organization, of which I shall speak again later, 
he insists that "principles, programs, and rules are not 
nearly as important as that the persons who put them 
into execution shall have the devil in them." (5) Al- 
though an avowed and militant atheist, Bakounin could 
not subdue his worship of the king of devils, and, had 
anyone during his life said that Bakounin was not only 
a modern Satan incarnate, but the eight other devils as 
well, nothing could have delighted him more. And no 
doubt he was inspired to this demon worship by his im- 
placable hatred of absolutism — whether it be in religion, 
which he considered as tyranny over the mind, or in gov- 
ernment, which he considered as tyranny over the body. 
To Bakounin the two eternal enemies of man were the 
Government and the Church, and no weapon was un- 
worthy of use which promised in any measure to assist 
in their entire and complete obliteration. 

Absolutism was to Bakounin a universal destroyer of 
the best and the noblest qualities in man. And, as it 
stands as an effective barrier to the only social order that 
can lift man above the beast — ^that of perfect liberty — so 
must the sincere warrior against absolutism become the 
universal destroyer of any and everjrthing associated 
with tyranny. How far such a crusade leads one may 


be gathered from Bakounin's own words: "The end 
of revolution can be no other," he declares, "than 
the destruction of all powers— religious, monarchi- 
cal, aristocratic, and bourgeois — ^in Europe. Conse- 
quently, the destruction of all now existing States, with 
all their institutions— political, juridical, bureaucratic, 
and financial." (6) In another place he says : "It will be 
essential to destroy ever)rthing, and especially and before 
all else, all property and its inevitable corollary, the 
State." (7) "We want to destroy all States," he re- 
peats in still another place, "and all Churches, with all 
their institutions and their laws of religion, politics, ju-' 
risprudence, finance, police, universities, economics, and 
society, in order that all these millions of poor, deceived, 
enslaved, tormented, exploited human beings, delivered 
from all their official and officious directors and bene- 
factors, associations, and individuals, can at last breathe 
with complete freedom." (8) All through life Bakou- 
nin clung tenaciously to this immense idea of destruc- 
tion, "terrible, total, inexorable, and universal," for only 
after such a period of destructive terror — ^in which every 
vestige of "the institutions of tyranny" shall be swept 
from the earth — can "anarchy, that is to say, the com- 
plete manifestation of unchained popular life," (9) de- 
velop liberty, equality, and justice. These were the 
means, and this was the end that Bakounin had in mind 
all the days of his life from the time he convinced him- 
self as a yotmg man that "the desire for destruction is 
at the same time a creative desire." ( 10) 

Even so brief a glimpse into Bakounin's mind is likely 
to startle the reader. But there is no fiction here ; he is 
what Carlyle would have called "a terrible God's Fact." 
He was a very real product of Russia's infamy, and we 
need not be surprised if one with Bakounin's great tal- 


ents, worshiping Satan and preaching ideas of destruc- 
tion that comprehended Cosmos itself, should have per- 
formed in the world a unique and never-to-be-forgotten 
role. It was inevitable that he should have stood out 
among the men of his time as a strange, bewildering fig- 
ure. To his very matter-of-fact and much annoyed an- 
tagonist, Karl Marx, he was little more than a buffoon, 
the "amorphous pan-destroyer, who has succeeded in unit- 
ing in one person Rodolphe, Monte Cristo, Karl Moor, 
and Robert Macaire." (11) On the other hand, to his 
circle of worshipers he was a mental giant, a flaming 
titan, a Russian Siegfried, holding out to all the powers 
of heaven and earth a perpetual challenge to combat. 
And, in truth, Bakounin's ideas and imagination covered 
a field that is not exhausted by the range of mythology. 
He juggled with universal abstractions as an alchemist 
with the elements of the earth or an astrologist with the 
celestial spheres. His workshop was the universe, his 
peculiar task the refashioning of Cosmos, and he began 
by declaring war upon the Almighty himself and every 
institution among men fashioned after what he consid- 
ered to be the absolutism of the Infinite. 

It is, then, with no ordinary human being that we must 
deal in treating of him who is known as the father of 
terrorism. Yet, as he lived in this world and fought 
with his faithful circle to lay down the principles of uni- 
versal revolution, we find him very human indeed. Of 
contradictions, for instance, there seems to be no end. 
Although an atheist, he had an idol, Satan. Although an 
eternal enemy of absolutism, he pleaded with Alexander 
to become the Czar of the people. And, although he 
fought passionately and superbly to destroy what he 
called the "authoritarian hierarchy" in the organization 
of the International, he planned for his own purpose 


the most complete hierarchy that can well be imagined. 
His only tactic, that of lex talionis, also worked out a 
perfect reciprocity even in those common affairs to which 
this prodigy stooped in order to conquer, for he seemed 
to create infallibly every institution he combated and 
to use every weapon that he execrated when employed 
by others. The most fertile of law-givers himself, he 
could not tolerate another. Pope of Popes in his little 
inner circle, he could brook no rival. Machiavelli's 
Prince was no richer in intrigue than Bakounin; yet he 
always fancied himself, with the greatest self-compas- 
sion, as the naive victim of the endless and malicious in- 
trigues of others. However affectionate, generous, and 
open he seemed to be with those who followed him wor- 
shipfully, even they were not trusted with his secrets, 
and, if he was always cunning and crafty toward his ene- 
mies, he never had a friend that he did not use to his 
profit. Volatile in his fitful changes toward men and 
movements, rudderless as he often seemed to be in the 
incoherence of his ideas and of his policies, there never- 
theless burned in his soul throughout life a great flaming, 
and perhaps redeeming, hatred of tyranny. At times he 
would lead his little bands into open warfare upon it, 
dreaming always that the world once in motion would 
follow him to the end in his great work of destruction. 
At other times he would go to it bearing gifts, in the 
hope, as we must charitably think, of destroying it by 

In general outline, this is the father of terrorism as I 
see him. How he developed his views is not entirely 
clear, as very little is known of his early life, and there 
are several broken threads at different periods both early 
and late in his career. The little known of his youth 
may be quickly told. He was born in Russia in 1814, of 


a family of good position, belonging to the old nobility. 
He was well educated and began his career in the army. 
Shortly after the Polish insurrection had been crushed, 
militarism and despotism became abhorrent to him, and 
the spectacle of that terrorized country made an ever- 
lasting impression upon him. In 1834 he renounced his 
military career and returned to Moscow, where he gave 
himself up entirely to the study of philosophy, and, as 
was natural at the period, he saturated himself with 
Hegel. From Moscow he went to St. Petersburg and 
later to Berlin, constantly pursuing his studies, and in 
1842 he published under the title, "La reaction en Alle- 
magne, fragment, par un Frangais," an article ending 
with the now famous line : "The desire for destruction is 
at the same time a creative desire." (12) This article ap- 
peared in the Deutsche Jahrbiicher, in which publication 
he soon became a collaborator. The authorities, however, 
were hostile to the paper, and he went into Switzerland 
in 1843, oi^ly to be driven later to Paris. There he made 
the acquaintance of Proudhon, "the father of anar- 
chism," and spent days and nights with him discussing 
the problems of government, of society, and of religion. 
He also met Marx, "the father of socialism," and, al- 
though they were never sympathetic, yet they came fre- 
quently in friendly and unfriendly contact with each 
other. George Sand, George Herwegh, Arnold Ruge, 
Frederick Engels, William Weitling, Alexander Herzen, 
Richard Wagner, Adolf Reichel, and many other bril- 
liant revolutionary spirits of the time, Bakounin knew 
intimately, and for him, as for many others, the period 
of the forties was one of great intellectual development. 
In the insurrectionary period that began in 1848 he 
became active, but he appears to have done little note- 
worthy before January, 1849, when he went secretly to 


Leipsic in the hope of aiding a group of young Czechs 
to launch an uprising in Bohemia. Shortly afterward 
an insurrection broke out in Dresden, and he rushed 
there to become one of the most active leaders of the 
revolt. . It is said that he was "the veritable soul of the 
revolution," and that he advised the insurrectionists, in 
order to prevent the Prussians from firing upon the bar- 
ricades, to place in front of them the masterpieces from 
the art museum. (13) When that insurrection was 
suppressed, he, Richard Wagner, and some others hur- 
ried to Chemnitz, where Bakounin was captured and con- 
demned to death. Austria, however, demanded his ex- 
tradition, and there, for the second time, he was con- 
demned to be hanged. Eventually he was handed over 
to Russia, where he again escaped paying the death pen- 
alty by the pardon of the Czar, and, after six years in 
prison, he was banished to Siberia. Great efforts were 
made to secure a pardon for him, but without success. 
However, through his influential relatives, he was al- 
lowed such freedom of movement that in the end he suc- 
ceeded in escaping, and, returning to Europe through Ja- 
pan and America, he arrived in England in 1861. 

The next year is notable for the appearance of two of 
his brochures, "Aux amis russes, polonais, et d, tous les 
amis slaves," and "La Cause du Peuple, Romanoff, Pou- 
gatchoff, ou Pestel?" One would have thought that 
twelve years in prison and in Siberia would have made 
him more bitter than ever against the State and the 
Czar; but, curiously, these writings mark a striking de- 
parture from his previous views. For almost the only 
time in his life he expressed a desire to see Russia de- 
velop into a magnificent "State," and he urged the Rus- 
sians to drive the Tartars back to Asia, the Germans 
back to Germany, and to become a free people, exclusively 


Russian. By cooperative effort between the military 
powers of the Russian Government and the insurrection- 
ary activities of the Slavs subjected to foreign govern- 
ments, the Russian peoples could wage a war, he argued, 
that would create a great united empire. The second of 
the above-mentioned volumes was addressed particu- 
larly to Alexander II. In this Bakounin prophesies that 
Russia must soon undergo a revolution. It may come 
through terrible and bloody uprisings on the part of the 
masses, led by some fierce and sanguinary popular idol, 
or it will come. through the Czar himself, if he should be 
wise enough to assume in person the leadership of the 
peasants. He declared that "Alexander II. could so 
easily become the popular idol, the first Czar of the 
peasants. ... By leaning upon the people he could , 
become the savior and master of the entire Slavic 
world." (14) He then pictures in glowing terms a 
united Russia, in which the Czar and the people will 
work harmoniously together to build up a great demo- 
cratic State. But he threatens that, if the Czar does not 
become the "savior of the Slavic world," an avenger 
will arise to lead an outraged and avenging people. He 
again declares, "We prefer to follow Romanoff (the 
family name of the Czar) , if Romanoff could and would 
transform himself from the Petersbourgeois emperor 
into the Czar of the peasants." (15) Despite much flat- 
tery and ill-merited praise, the Czar refused to be con- 
verted, and Bakounin rushed off the next year to Stock- 
holm, in the hope of organizing a band of Russians to 
enter Poland to assist in the insurrection which had 
broken out there. 

The next few years were spent mostly in Italy, and it 
was here that he conceived his plan of a secret interna- 
tional organization of revolutionists. Little is known of 


how extensive this secret organization actually became, 
but Bakounin said in 1864 that it included a number of 
Italian, French, Scandinavian, and Slavic revolutionists. 
As a scheme this secret organization is remarkable. It 
included three orders: I. The International Brothers; 
II. The National Brothers; III. The semi-secret, semi- 
public organization of the International Alliance of So- 
cial Democracy. Without Bakounin's intending it, doubt- 
less, the International Brothers resembled the circle of 
gods in mythology; the National Brothers, the circle of 
heroes ; while the third order resembled the mortals who 
were to bear the burden of the fighting. The Interna- 
tional Brothers were not to exceed one hundred, and 
they were to be the guiding spirits of the great revolu- 
tionary storms that Bakounin thought were then immi- 
nent in Europe. They must possess above all things 
"revolutionary passion," and they were to be the su- 
preme secret executive power of the two subordinate or- 
ganizations. In their hands alone should be the making 
of the programs, the rules, and the principles of the revo- 
lution. The National Brothers were to be under the di- 
rection of the International Brothers, and were to be 
selected because of their revolutionary zeal and their 
ability to control the masses. They were "to have the 
devil in them." The semi-secret, semi-public organiza- 
tion was to include the multitude, and sections were to 
be formed in every country for the purpose of organiz- 
ing the masses. However, the masses were not to know 
of the secret organization of the National Brothers, and 
the National Brothers were not to know of the secret 
organization of the International Brothers. In order to 
enable them to work separately but harmoniously, Bakou- 
nin, who had chosen himself as the supreme law-giver, 
wrote for each of the three orders a program of princi- 


pies, a code of rules, and a plan of methods all Us own. 
The ultimate ends of this movement were not to be com- 
municated to either the National Brothers or to the Alli- 
ance, and the masses were to know only that which was 
good for them to know, and which would not be likely 
to frighten them. These are very briefly the outlines of 
the extraordinary hierarchy that was to form throughout 
all Europe and America an invisible network of "the real 

This organization was "to accelerate the universal 
revolution," and what was understood by the revolution 
was "the unchaining of what is to-day called the bad 
passions and the destruction of what in the same lan- 
guage is called 'public order.' We do not fear, we in- 
voke anarchy, convinced that from this anarchy, that is 
to say, from the complete manifestation of unchained 
popular life, must come forth liberty, equality, justice 
. . . " ( 16) It was clearly foreseen by Bakounin 
that there would be opponents to anarchy among the 
revolutionists themselves, and he declared : "We are the 
natural enemies of these revolutionists . . . who 
. . . dream already of the creation of new revolu- 
tionary States." (17) It was admitted that the Brothers 
could not of themselves create the revolution. All that 
a secret and well-organized society can do is "to organize, 
not the army of the revolution — ^the army must always 
be the people — ^but a sort of revolutionary staff composed 
of individuals who are devoted, energetic, intelligent, and 
especially sincere friends of the people, not ambitious 
nor self-conceited — capable of serving as intermediaries 
between the revolutionary idea and the popular instincts. 
The number of these individuals does not have to be im- 
mense. For the international organization of all Europe, 
one hundred revolutionists, strongly and seriously bound 


together, are sufficient. Two or three hundred revolu- 
tionists will be sufficient for the organization of the 
largest country." (i8) 

The idea of a secret organization of revolutionary 
leaders proved to be wholly repugnant to many of even 
the most devoted friends of Bakounin, and by 1868 the 
organization is supposed to have been dissolved, because, 
it was said, secrets had leaked out and the whole affair 
had been subjected to much ridicule. (19) The idea 
of the third order, however, that of the International 
Alliance, was not abandoned, and it appears that Ba- 
kounin and a number of the faithful Brothers felt hope- 
ful in 1867 of capturing a great "bourgeois" congress, 
called the "League of Peace and of Liberty," that had 
met that year in Geneva. Bakounin, filisee Reclus, Aris- 
tide Rey, Victor Jaclard, and several others in the con- 
spiracy undertook to persuade the league to pass some 
revolutionary resolutions. Bakounin was already a mem- 
ber of the central committee of the league, and, in prepa- 
ration for the battle, he wrote the manuscript afterward 
published under the title, "Federalisme, Socialisme, et 
Antitheologisme." But the congress of 1868 dashed their 
hopes to the ground, and the revolutionists separated 
from the league and founded the same day, September 
2Sth, a new association, called L' Alliance Internationale 
de la Democratie Socialiste. The program now adopted 
by the Alliance, although written by Bakounin, expressed 
quite different views from those of the International 
Brothers® But it, too, began its revolutionary creed by 
declaring itself atheist. Its chief and most important 
work was "to abolish religion and to substitute science 
for faith; and human justice for divine justice."/55Bec- 
ond, it declared for "the political, economic, and social 
equality of the classes" (which, it was assumed, were to 


continue to exist), and it intended to attain this end by 
the destruction of government and by the abolition of 
the right of inheritancei^SThird, it assailed all forms of 
political action and proposed that, in place of the com- 
munity, groups of producers should assume control of 
all industrial processes. ^Fourth, it opposed all central- 
ized organization, believing that both groups and indi- 
viduals should demand for themselves complete liberty 
to do in all cases whateverl they desired. (20) The 
same revolutionists who a short time before had planned 
a complete hierarchy now appeared irreconcilably opposed 
to any form of authority. They now argued that they 
must abolish not only God and every political State, but 
also the right of the majority to rule. Then and then 
only would the people finally attain perfect liberty. 

These were the chief ideas that Bakounin wished to 
introduce into the International Working Men's Asso- 
ciation. That organization, founded in 1864 in London, 
had already become a great power in Europe, and Ba- 
kounin entered it in 1869, not only for the purpose of 
forwarding the ideas just mentioned, but also in the hope 
of obtaining the leadership of it. Failing in 1862 to 
convert the Czar, in 1864-1867 to organize into a hier- 
archy the revolutionary spirits of Europe, in 1868 to 
capture the bourgeoisie, he turned in i86g to seek the 
aid of the working class. On each of these occasions his 
views underwent the most magical of transformations. 
With more bitterness than ever he now declared war 
upon the political and economic powers of Europe, but 
he was unable to prosecute this war until he had de- 
stroyed every committee or group in the International 
which possessed, or sought to possess, any power. He 
assailed Marx, Engels, and all those who he thought 
wished to dominate the International. The beam in his 


own eye he saw in theirs, and he now expressed an un- 
speakable loathing for all hierarchical tendencies and 
authoritarian methods. The story of the great battle 
between him and Marx must be left for a later chapter, 
and we must content ourselves for the present with fol- 
lowing the history of Bakounin as he gradually devel- 
oped in theory and in practice the principles and tactics 
of terrorism. 

While struggling to obtain the leadership of the work- 
ing classes of Western Europe, Bakounin was also busy 
with Russian affairs. "I am excessively absorbed in 
what is going on in Russia," he writes to a friend, April 
13, 1869. "Our youth, the most revolutionary in the 
world perhaps, in theory and in practice, are so stirred 
up that the Government has been forced to close the uni- 
versities, academies, and several schools at St. Peters- 
burg, Moscow, and Kazan. I have here now a specimen 
of these young fanatics, who hesitate at nothing and who 
fear nothing. . . . They are admirable, ... be- 
lievers without God and heroes without phrase!" (21) 
He who called forth this eulogy was the young Russian 
revolutionist, Sergei Nechayeff. Whether admirable or 
not we shall leave the reader to judge. But, if Bakounin 
bewilders one, Nechayeff staggers one. And, if Bakou- 
nin was the father of terrorism, Nechayeff was its living 
embodiment. He was not complex, mystical, or senti- 
mental. He was truly a revolutionist without phrase, 
and he can be described in the simplest words. He was a 
liar, a thief, and a murderer — the incarnation of Hatred, 
Malice, and Revenge, who stopped at no crime against 
friend or foe that promised to advance what he was 
pleased to call the revolution. Bakounin had for a long 
time sought his cooperation, and now in Switzerland 
they began that collaboration which resulted in the most 


extraordinary series of sanguinary revolutionary writ- 
ings known to history. 

In the summer of 1869 there was printed at Geneva 
"Words Addressed to Students," signed by them both; 
the "Formula of the Revolutionary Question"; "The 
Principles of the Revolution"; and the "Publications of 
the People's Tribunal" — ^the three last appearing anony- 
mously. All of them counsel the most infamous doc- 
trines of criminal activity. In "Words Addressed to Stu- 
dents," the Russian youth are exhorted to leave the uni- 
versities and go among the people. They are asked to fol- 
low the example of Stenka Razin, a robber chieftain who, 
in the time of Alexis, placed himself at the head of a 
popular insurrection.* "Robbery," declare Bakounin 
and Nechayeff, "is one of the most honorable forms of 
Russian national life. The brigand is the hero, the de- 
fender, the popular avenger, the irreconcilable enemy of 
the State, and of all social and civil order established by 
the State. He is the wrestler in life and in death against 
all this civilization of officials, of nobles, of priests, and 
of the crown. . . . He who does not understand 
robbery can understand nothing in the history of the 
Russian masses. He who is not sympathetic with it, can- 
not sympathize with the popular life, and has no heart 
for the ancient, unbounded sufferings of the people; he 
belongs in the camp of the enemy, the partisans of the 
State ... It is through brigandage only that the 
vitality, passion, and force of the people are established 
*This formidable peasant insurrection occurred in 1669-1671. 
When Pougatchoff, a century later, in I773-I77S. urged the Cos- 
sacks and serfs to insurrection against Catherine II, the Russian 
people saw in him a new Stenka Razin; and they expected in 
Russia, in 1869 and the following years, a third centennial ap- 
parition of the legendary brigand who, in the minds of the op- 
pressed people, personified revolt. 


undeniably . . . The brigand in Russia is the veri- 
table and unique revolutionist — revolutionist without 
phrase, without rhetoric borrowed from books, a revolu- 
tionist indefatigable, irreconcilable, and irresistible in ac- 
tion . , . The brigands scattered in the forests, the 
cities, and villages of all Russia, and the brigands con- 
fined in the innumerable prisons of the empire, form a 
unique and indivisible world, strongly bound together, 
the world of the Russian revolution. In it, in it alone, 
has existed for a long time the veritable revolutionary 
conspiracy." (22) 

Once again the principles of the revolution appear to 
be complete and universal destruction. "There must 'not 
rest . . . one stone upon a stone.' It is necessary 
to destroy everything, in order to produce 'perfect 
amorphism,' for, if 'a single one of the old forms' were 
preserved, it would become 'the embryo' from which 
would spring all the other old social forms." (23) The 
same leaflet preaches systematic assassination and de- 
clares that for practical revolutionists all speculations 
about the future are "cririiinal, because they hinder pure 
destruction and trammel the march' of the revolution. 
We have confidence only in those who show by their acts 
their devotion to the revolution, without fear of torture 
or of imprisonment, and we disclaim all words unless 
action should follow immediately." . . . (24) 
"Words have no value for us unless followed at once 
by action. But all is not action that goes under that 
name : for example, the modest and too-cautious organi- 
zation of secret societies without some external manifes- 
tations is in our eyes merely ridiculous and intolerable 
child's play. By external manifestations we mean a se- 
ries of actions that positively destroy something — a per- 
son, a cause, a condition that hinders the emancipation 


of the people. Without sparing our lives, without paus- 
ing before any threat, any obstacle, any danger, etc., we 
must break into the life of the people with a series of 
daring, even insolent, attempts, and inspire them with a 
belief in their own power, awake them, rally them, and 
drive them on to the triumph of their own cause." (25) 

The most remarkable of this series of writings is "The 
Revolutionary Catechism." This existed for several 
years in cipher, and was guarded most carefully by 
Nechayeff. Altogether it contained twenty-six articles, 
classified into four sections. Here it is declared that if 
the revolutionist continues to live in this world it is only 
in order to annihilate it all the more surely. "The object 
remains always the same: the quickest and surest way 
of destroying this filthy order." . . . "For him exists 
only one single pleasure, one single consolation, one re- 
ward, one satisfaction: the success of the revolution. 
Night and day he must have but one thought, but one 
aim — implacable destruction." . . . "For this end of 
implacable destruction a revolutionist can and often 
must live in the midst of society, feigning to be alto- 
gether different from what he really is. A revolutionist 
must penetrate everywhere: into high society as well as 
into the middle class, into the shops, into the church, into 
the palaces of the aristocracy, into the official, military, 
and literary worlds, into the third section (the secret 
police), and even into the imperial palace." (26) 

"All this unclean society must be divided into several 
categories, the first composed of those who are con- 
demned to death without delay." (Sec. 15.) . . . 
"In the first place must be destroyed the men most inimi- 
cal to the revolutionary organization and whose violent 
and sudden death can frighten the Government the most 
and break its power in depriving it of energetic and in- 


telligent agents." (Sec. i6.) "The second category 
must be composed of people to whom we concede life 
provisionally, in order that by a series of monstrous acts 
they may drive the people into inevitable revolt." (Sec. 
17.) "To the third category belong a great number of 
animals in high position or of individuals who are re- 
markable neither for their mind nor for their energy, 
but who, by their position, have wealth, connections, in- 
fluence, power. We must exploit them in every possible 
manner, overreach them, deceive them, and, getting hold 
of their dirty secrets, make them our slaves." (Sec. 18.) 
. . . "The fourth class is composed of sundry ambi- 
tious persons in the service of the State and of liberals 
of various shades of opinion. With them we can con- 
spire after their own program, pretending to follow them 
blindly. We must take them in our hands, seise their 
secrets, compromise them completely, in such a way that 
retreat becomes impossible for them, so as to make use 
of them in bringing about disturbances in the State." 
(Sec. 19.) "The fifth category is composed of doctri- 
naires, conspirators, revolutionists, and of those who 
babble at meetings and on paper. We must urge these 
on and draw them incessantly into practical and perilous 
manifestations, which will result in making the majority 
of them disappear, while making some of them genuine 
revolutionists." (Sec. 20.) "The sixth category is very 
important. They are the women, who must be divided 
into three classes: the first, frivolous women, without 
mind or heart, which we must use in the same manner as 
the third and fourth categories of men ; the second, the 
ardent, devoted, and capable women, but who are not 
ours because they have not reached a practical revolu- 
tionary understanding, without phrase — we must make 
use of these like the men of the fifth category; finally. 


the women who are entirely with us, that is to say, com- 
pletely initiated and having accepted our program in its 
entirety. We ought to consider them as the most pre- 
cious of our treasures, without whose help we can do 
nothing." (Sec. 21.) (27) 

The last section of the "Catechism" treats of the duty 
of the association toward the people. "The Society has 
no other end than the complete emancipation and happi- 
ness of the people, namely, of the laborers. But, con- 
vinced that this emancipation and this happiness can 
only be reached by means of an all-destroying popular 
revolution, the Society will use every means and every 
effort to increase and intensify the evils and sorrows, 
which must at last exhaust the patience of the people 
and excite them to insurrection en masse. By a popular 
revolution the Society does not mean a movement regu- 
lated according to the classic patterns of the West, which, 
always restrained in the face of property and of the tra- 
ditional social order of so-called civilization and morality, 
has hitherto been limited merely to exchanging one form 
of political organization for another, and to the creating 
of a so-called revolutionary State. The only revolution 
that can do any good to the people is that which utterly 
annihilates every idea of the State and overthrows all 
traditions, orders, and classes in Russia. With this end 
in view, the Society has no intention of imposing on the 
people any organization whatever coming from above. 
The future organization will, without doubt, proceed 
from the movement and life of the people ; but that is the 
business of future generations. Our task is terrible, 
total, inexorable, and universal destruction." (28) 
These are in brief the tactics and principles of terror- 
ism, as understood by Bakounin and Nechayeff. As 
only the criminal world shared these views in any degree, 


the "Catechism" ends : "We have got to unite ourselves 
with the adventurer's world of the brigands, who are the 
veritable and unique revolutionists of Russia." (29) 

It is customary now to credit most of these writings 
to Nechayeff, although Bakounin himself, I believe, 
never denied that they were his, and no one can read 
them without noting the ear-marks of both Bakounin's 
thought and style. In any case, Nechayeff was con- 
stantly with Bakounin in the spring and summer of 1869, 
and the most important of these brochures were pub- 
lished in Geneva in the summer of that year. And, while 
it may be said for Bakounin that he nowhere else advo- 
cates all the varied criminal methods advised in these 
publications, there is hardly an argument for their use 
that is not based upon his well-known views. Further- 
more, Nechayeff was primarily a man of action, and in 
a letter, which is printed hereafter, it appears that he 
urgently requested Bakounin to develop some of his the- 
ories in a Russian journal. Evidently, then, Nechayeff 
had little confidence in his own power of expression. 
We must, however, leave the question of paternity un- 
decided and follow the latter to Russia, where he went 
late in the summer, loaded down with his arsenal of revo- 
lutionary literature and burning to put into practice the 
principles of the "Catechism." 

Without following in detail his devious and criminal 
work, one brief tale will explain how his revolutionary 
activities were brought quickly to an end. There was in 
Moscow, so the story runs, a gentle, kindly, and influen- 
tial member of Nechayeff's society. Of ascetic disposi- 
tion, this Iwanof spent much of his time in freely edu- 
cating the peasants and in assisting the poorer students. 
He starved himself to establish cheap eating houses, 
which became the centers of the revolutionary groups. 


The police finally closed his establishments, because 
Nechayeff had placarded them with revolutionary ap- 
peals. Iwanof, quite unhappy at this ending of his use- 
fulness, begged Nechayeff to permit him to retire from 
the secret society. Nechayeff was, however, in fear that 
Iwanof might betray the secrets of the society, and he 
went one night with two fellow conspirators and shot 
Iwanof and threw the corpse into a pond. The police, in 
following up the murder, sought out Nechayeff, who had 
already fled from Russia and was hurrying back to Ba- 
kounin in Switzerland. 

From January until July, 1870, he was constantly with 
Bakounin, but quarrels began to arise between them in 
June, and Bakounin writes in a letter to Ogaref : "Our 
boy (Nechayeff) is very stubborn, and I, when once I 
make a decision, am not accustomed to change it. There- 
fore, the break with him, on my side at least seems in- 
evitable." (30) In the middle of July it was discov- 
ered that Nechayeff was once more carrying out the 
ethics they had jointly evolved, and, in order to make 
Bakounin his slave, had recourse to all sorts of "Jesuiti- 
cal maneuvers, of lies and of thefts." Suddenly he dis- 
appeared from Geneva, and Bakounin and other Rus- 
sians discovered that they had been robbed of all their 
papers and confidential letters. Soon it was learned that 
Nechayeff had presented himself to Talandier in London, 
and Bakounin hastened to write to his friend an expla- 
nation of their relations. "It may appear strange to you 
that we advise you to repulse a man to whom we gave 
letters of recommendation, written in the most cordial 
terms. But these letters date from the month of May, 
and there have happened since some events so serious 
that they have forced us to break all connections with 
Nechayeff." . . . "It is perfectly true that Nechayeff 


is more persecuted by the Russian Government than any 
other man. . . . It is also true that Nechayeff is one 
of the most active and most energetic men that I have 
ever met. When it is a question of serving what he 
calls the cause, he does not hesitate, he stops at nothing, 
and is as pitiless toward himself as toward all others, 
That is the principal quality which attracted me to, him 
and which made me for a long time seek his cooperation. 
There are those who pretend that he is nothing but a 
sharper, but that is a lie. He is a devoted fanatic, but 
at the same time a dangerous fanatic, with whom an alli- 
ance could only prove very disastrous for everyone con- 
cerned. This is the reason: He first belonged to a se- 
cret society which, in reality, existed in Russia. This so- 
ciety exists no more ; all its members have been arrested. 
Nechayeff alone remains, and alone he constitutes to-day 
what he calls the 'Committee.' The Russian organiza- 
tion in Russia having been destroyed, he is forced to 
create a new one in a foreign country. All that was per- 
fectly natural, legitimate, very useful — but the means by 
which he undertakes it are detestable. . . . He will 
spy on you and will try to get possession of all your se- 
crets, and to do that, in your absence, left alone in your 
room, he will open all your drawers, will read all your 
correspondence, and whenever a letter appears interest- 
ing to him, that is to say, compromising you or one of 
your friends from one point of view or another, he will 
steal it, and will guard it carefully as a document against 
you or your friend. ... If you have presented him 
to a friend, his first care will be to sow between you 
seeds of discord, scandal, intrigue — in a word, to set 
you two at variance. If your friend has a wife or a 
daughter, he will try to seduce her, to lead her astray 
and to force her away from the conventional morality 


and throw her into a revolutionary protest against so- 
ciety. ... Do not cry out that this is exaggeration. 
It has all been fully developed and proved. Seeing him- 
self unmasked, this poor Nechayeff is indeed so child- 
like, so simple, in spite of his systematic perversity, that 
he believed it possible to convert me. He has even gone 
so far as to beg me to consent to develop this theory in a 
Russian journal which he proposed to me to establish. 
He has betrayed the confidence of us all, he has stolen 
our letters, he has horribly compromised us — in a word, 
he has acted like a villain. His only excuse is his fa- 
naticism. He is a terribly ambitious man without know- 
ing it, because he has at last completely identified the 
revolutionary cause with his own person. But he is not 
an egoist in the worst sense of that word, because he 
risks his own person terribly and leads the life of a mar- 
tyr, of privations, and of unheard-of work. He is a 
fanatic, and fanaticism draws him on, even to the point 
of becoming an accomplished Jesuit. At moments he be- 
comes simply stupid. Most of his lies are sewn with 
white thread. ... In spite of this relative naivete, 
he is very dangerous, because he daily commits acts, 
abuses of confidence, and treachery, against which it is 
all the more difficult to safeguard oneself because one 
hardly suspects the possibility. With all that, Nechayeff 
is a force, because he is an immense energy. It is with 
great pain that I have separated from him, because the 
service of our cause demands much energy, and one 
rarely finds it developed to such a point." (31) 

The irony of fate rarely executes itself quite so hu- 
morously. Although perfectly familiar with Nechayeff's 
philosophy of action for over a year, the viciousness of it 
appeared to Bakounin only when he himself became a 
victim. When Nechayeff arrived in London he began 


the publication of a Russian journal, the Commune, 
where he bitterly attacked Bakounin and his views. Early 
in the seventies, he was arrested and taken back to Rus- 
sia, where he and over eighty others, mostly young men 
and women students, were tried for belonging to secret 
societies. For the first time in Russian history the court 
proceeding took place before a jury and in public. Most 
of those arrested were condemned for long periods to 
the mines of Siberia at forced labor, while Nechayeff 
was kept in solitary imprisonment until his death, some 
years laiter. 

Bakounin, on the other hand, remained in Switzerland 
and became the very soul of that element in Italy, Spain, 
and Switzerland which fought the policies of Marx in the 
International. At the same time he was training a group 
of youngsters to carry out in Western Europe the prin- 
ciples of revolution as laid down in his Russian publica- 
tions. Over young middle-class youths, especially, Ba- 
kounin's magnetic power was extraordinary, and his fol- 
lowers were the faithful of the faithful. A very striking 
picture of Bakounin's hsrpnotic influence over this circle 
is to be found in the memoirs of Madame A. Bauler. 
She tells us of some Sundays she spent with Bakounin 
and his friends. 

"At the beginning," she says, "being unfamiliar with 
the Italian language, I did not even understand the gen- 
eral drift of the conversation, but, observing the faces 
of those present, I had the impression that something ex- 
traordinarily grave and solemn was taking place. The 
atmosphere of these conferences imbued me; it created 
in me a state of mind which I shall call, for want of a 
better term, an 'Stat de grace.' Faith increased ; doubts 
vanished. The value of Bakounin became clear to me. 
His personality enlarged. I saw that his strength was 


in the power of taking possession of human souls. Be- 
yond a doubt, all these men who were listening to him 
were ready to undertake anything, at the slightest word 
from him. I could picture to myself another gathering, 
less intimate, that of a great crowd, and I realized that 
there the influence of Bakounin would be the same. Only 
the enthusiasm, here gentle and intimate, would become 
incomparably more intense and the atmosphere more agi- 
tated by the mutual contagion of the human beings in a 

"At bottom, in what did the charm of Bakounin con- 
sist? I believe that it is impossible to define it exactly. 
It was not by the force of persuasion that he agitated. 
It was not his thought which awakened the thought of 
others. But he aroused every rebellious heart and awoke 
there an 'elemental' anger. And this anger, transplen- 
dent with beauty, became creative and showed to the ex- 
alted thirst for justice and happiness an issue and a pos- 
sibility of accomplishment. 'The desire for destruction is 
at the same time a creative desire,' Bakounin has re- 
peated to the end of his life." (32) 



At the beginning of the seventies Bakounin and his 
friends found opening before them a field of practical 
activity. On the whole, the sixties were spent in the- 
orizing, in organizing, and in planning, but with the sev- 
enties the moment arrived "to unchain the hydra of revo- 
lution." On the 4th of September, 1870, the Third Re- 
public was proclaimed in Paris, and a few days after- 
ward there were many uprisings in the other cities of 
France. It was, however, only in Lyons that the Ba- 
kouninists played an important part. Bakounin had a 
fixed idea that, wherever there was an uprising of the 
people, there he must go, and he wrote to Adolphe Vogt 
on September 6 : "My friends, the revolutionary social- 
ists of Lyons, are calling me there. I am resolved to take 
my old bones thither and to play there what will probably 
be my last game. But, as usual, I have not a sou. Can 
you, I do not say lend me, but give me 500 or 400, or 
300 or 200, or even 100 francs, for my voyage?" (i) 
Guillaume does hot state where the money finally came 
from, but Bakounin evidently raised it somehow, for he 
left Locarno on September 9. The night of the nth he 
spent in Neuchatel, where he conferred with Guillaume 
regarding the publication of a manuscript. On the 12th 
he arrived in Geneva, and two days later set out for 
Lyons, accompanied by two revolutionary enthusiasts, 
Ozerof and the young Pole, Valence Lankiewicz. 



Since the 4th of September a Committee of Public 
Safety had been installed at the Hotel de Ville composed 
of republicans, radicals, and some militants of the Inter- 
national. Gaspard Blanc and Albert Richard, two inti- 
mate friends of Bakounin, were not members of this 
committee, and in a public meeting, September 8, Rich- 
ard made a motion, which was carried, to name a stand- 
ing commission of ten to act as the "intermediaries be- 
tween the pieople of Lyons and the Committee of Public 
Safety." Three of these commissioners, Richard, An- 
drieux, and Jaclard, were then appointed to go as dele- 
gates to Paris in order to come to some understanding 
with the Government. Andrieux, in the days of the Em- 
pire, had acquired fame as a revolutionist by proposing 
at a meeting to burn the ledger of the public debt. It 
seems, however, that these close and trusted friends of 
Bakounin began immediately upon their arrival in Paris 
to solicit various public positions remunerative to them- 
selves, (2) and, although they succeeded in having Gen- 
eral Cluseret sent to take command of the voluntary 
corps then forming in the department of the Rhone, that 
proved, as we shall see, most disastrous of all. 

This is about all that had happened previous to 
Bakounin's arrival in Lyons, and, when he came, there 
was confusion everywhere. Even the members of the 
Alliance had no clear idea of what ought to be done. 
Bakounin, however, was an old hand at insurrections, and 
in a little lodging house where he and his friends were 
staying a new uprising was planned. He lost no time 
in getting hold of all the men of action. Under his en- 
ergetic leadership "public meetings were multiplied and 
assumed a character of unheard-of violence. The most 
sanguinary motions were introduced and welcomed with 
enthusiasm. They openly provoked revolt in order to 


overthrow the laws and the established order of 
things." (3) On September 19 Bakounin wrote to Oga- 
ref: "There is so much work to do that it turns my 
head. The real revolution has not yet burst forth here, 
but it will come. Everything possible is being done to 
prepare for it. I am playing a great game. I hope to 
see the approaching triumph." (4) 

A great public meeting was held on the 24th, presided 
over by Eugene Saignes, a plasterer and painter, and a 
man of energy and influence among the Lyons workmen, 
at which various questions relative to proposed political 
changes were voted upon. But it was the following day, 
the 25th, that probably the most notable event of the in- 
surrection took place. "The next day, Sunday, was em- 
ployed," Guillaume says, "in the drawing up and printing 
of a great red placard, containing the program of the 
revolution which the Central Committee of Safety of 
France proposed to the people . . ." (5) The first 
article of the program declares: "The administrative 
and governmental machinery of the State, having become 
powerless, is abolished. The people of France once again 
enter into full possession of themselves." The second 
article suspends "all civil and criminal courts," and re- 
places them "by the justice of the people." The third 
suspends "the payment of taxes and of mortgages." The 
fourth declares that "the State, having decayed, can 
no longer intervene in the payment of private debts." 
The fifth states that "all existing municipal organizations 
are broken up and rieplaced in all the federated com- 
munes by Committees of Safety of France, which will 
exercise all powers under the immediate control of the 
people." The revolution was at last launched, and the 
placard ends, "Aux Armes ! ! !" (6) 

While the Bakouninists were decreeing the revolution 


by posters and vainly calling the people to arms, an event 
occurred in Lyons which brought to them a very useful 
contingent of fighters. The Lyons municipality had just 
reduced the pay of the workers in the national dock 
yards from three to two and a half francs a day, and, 
on this account, these laborers joined the ranks of the 
insurgents. On the evening of September 27 a meeting 
of the Central Committee of Safety of France took 
place, and there a definite plan of action for the next day 
was decided upon. Velay, a tulle maker and municipal 
councillor, Bakounin, and others advised an armed mani- 
festation, but the majority expressed itself in favor of a 
peaceful one. An executive committee composed of 
eight members signed the following proclamation, drawn 
up by Gaspard Blanc, which was printed during the night 
and posted early the next morning: "The people of 
Lyons . . . are summoned, through the organ of 
their assembled popular committees, to a popular mani- 
festation to be held to-day, September 28, at noon, on the 
Place des Terreaux, in order to force the authority to 
take immediately the most energetic and efficacious meas- 
ures for the national defense." (7) 

Turning again to Guillaume, we find "At noon many 
thousands of men pressed together on the Place des 
Terreaux. A delegation of sixteen of the national dock- 
yard workmen entered the Hotel de Ville to demand of 
the Municipal Council the reestablishment of their wage 
to three francs a day, but the Council was not in session. 
Very soon a movement began in the crowd, and a hun- 
dred resolute men, Saignes at their head, forcing the 
door of the Hotel de Ville, penetrated the municipal 
building. Some members of the Central Committee of 
Safety of France, Bakounin, Parraton, Bastelica, and 
others, went in with them. From the balcony, Saignes 


announced that the Municipal Council was to be com- 
pelled to accept the program of the red proclamation of 
September 26 or to resign, and he proposed to name 
Cluseret general of the revolutionary army. Cluseret, 
cheered by the crowd, appeared in the balcony, thanked 
them, and announced that he was going to Croix- 
Rousse" (the working-class district). (8) He went there, 
it is true, but not to call to arms the national guards of 
that quarter. Indeed, his aim appears to have been to 
avoid a conflict, and he simply asked the workers "to 
come down en masse and without arms." (9) In the 
meantime the national guards of the wealthier quarters of 
the city hastened to the Hotel de Ville and penetrated 
the interior court, while the Committee of Safety of 
France installed itself inside the building. There they 
passed two or three hours in drawing up resolutions, 
while Bakounin and others in vain protested: "We 
must act. We are losing time. We are going to be in- 
vaded by the national bourgeois guard. It is necessary 
to arrest immediately the prefect, the mayor, and Gen- 
eral Mazure." (10) But their words went unheeded. 
And all the while the bourgeois guards were massing 
themselves before the Hotel de Ville, and Cluseret and 
his unarmed manifestants were yielding place to them. 
In fact, Cluseret even persuaded the members of the 
Committee of Safety to retire and those of the Municipal 
Council to return to their seats, which they consented to 

Bakounin made a last desperate effort to save the situ- 
ation and to induce the insurgents to oppose force to 
force, but they would not. Even Albert Richard failed 
him. The Revolutionary committee, after parleying with 
the Municipal Councillors, then evacuated the Hotel de 
Ville and contented itself with issuing a statement 


to the effect that "The delegates of the people have not 
believed it their duty to impose themselves on the Mu- 
nicipal Council by violence and have retired when it went 
into session, leaving it to the people to fully appreciate 
the situation." (11) "At the moment," says Guillaume, 
"when . . . Mayor Henon, with an escort of na- 
tional bourgeois guards, reentered the Hotel- de Ville, he 
met Bakounin in the hall of the Pas-Perdus. The mayor 
immediately ordered his companions to take him in cus- 
tody and to confine him at once in an underground hid- 
ing-place." (12) The Municipal Councillors then opened 
their session and pledged that no pursuit should be in- 
stituted in view of the happenings of the day. They 
voted to reestablish the former wage of the national 
dock-yard workers, but declared themselves unable to 
undertake the revolutionary measures proposed by the 
Committee of Safety of France, as these were outside 
their legal province. 

In the meantime Bakounin was undergoing an ex- 
perience far from pleasant, if we are to judge from the 
account which he gives in a letter written the following 
day: "Some used me brutally in all sorts of ways, 
jostling me about, pushing me, pinching me, twisting my 
arms and hands. I must, however, admit that others 
cried: 'Do not harm him.' In truth the bourgeoisie 
showed itself what it is everywhere: brutal and cow- 
ardly. For you know that I was delivered by some 
sharpshooters who put to flight three or four times 
their number of these heroic shopkeepers armed with 
their rifles. I was delivered, but of all the objects which 
had been stolen from me by these gentlemen I was able 
to find only my revolver. My memorandum book and 
my purse, which contained 165 francs and some sous, 
without doubt stayed in the hands of these gentlemen. 



. . . I beg you to reclaim them in my name. You will 
send them to me when you have recovered them." (13) 
As a matter of fact, it was at the instance of his fol- 
lower, Ozerof, that Bakounin was finally delivered. 
When he came forth from the Hotel de Ville, the Com- 
mittee of Safety of France and its thousands of sympa- 
thizers had disappeared, and he found himself practically 
alone. He spent the night at the house of a friend, and 
departed for Marseilles the next day, after writing the 
following letter to Palix: "My dear friend, I do not 
wish to leave Lyons without having said a last word of 
farewell to you. Prudence keeps me from coming to 
shake hands with you for the last time. I have nothing 
more to do here. I came to Lyons to fight or to die 
with you. I came because I am profoundly convinced 
that the cause of France has become again, at this su- 
preme hour, . . . the cause of humanity. I have 
taken part in yesterday's movement, and I have signed 
my name to the resolutions of the Committee of Safety 
of France, because it is evident to me that, after the 
real and certain destruction of all the administrative and 
governmental machinery, there is nothing but the imme- 
diate and revolutionary action of the people which can 
save France. . . . The movement of yesterday, if it 
had been successful . . . could have saved Lyons 
and France. ... I leave Lyons, dear friend, with a 
heart full of sadness and somber forebodings. I begin 
to think now that it is finished with France. . 
She will become a viceroyalty of Germany. In place of 
her living and real socmlism* we shall have the doc- 

* Previous to 1848, socialism was used by Robert Owen and 
his followers, as well as by many French idealists, to mean 
phalansteries, colonies, or other voluntary communal under- 
takings. Marx and Engels at first called themselves "commun- 


trinaire socialism of the Germans, who will say no more 
than the Prussian bayonets will permit them to say. The 
bureaucratic and military intelligence of Prussia, com- 
bined with the knout of the Czar of St. Petersburg, are 
going to assure peace and public order for at least fifty 
years on the whole continent of Europe. Farewell, lib- 
erty! Farewell, socialism! Farewell, justice for the 
people and the triumph of humanity! All that could 
have grown out of the present disaster of France. All 
that would have grown out of it if the people of France, 
if the people of Lyons, had wished it." (14) 

The insurrection at Lyons and Bakounin's decree 
abolishing the State amounted to very little in the history 
of the French Republic. Writing afterward to Pro- 
fessor Edward Spencer Beesly, Karl Marx comments 
on the events that had taken place in Lyons : "At the 
beginning everything went well," he writes. "Under the 
pressure of the section of the International, the Republic 
had been proclaimed at Lyons before it had been at Paris. 
A revolutionary government was immediately estab- 
lished, namely the Commune, composed in part of work- 
men belonging to the International, in part of bourgeois 
radical republicans . . . But those blunderers, Ba- 
kounin and Cluseret, arrived at Lyons and spoiled every- 
thing. Both being members of the International, they 
had unfortunately enough influence to lead our friends 
astray. The Hotel de Ville was taken, for a moment 

ists," and were thus distinguished from these earlier socialists. 
During the period of the International all its members began 
more and more to call themselves "socialists." The word, an- 
archism, was rarely used. As a matter of fact, it was the strug- 
gle in the International which eventually clarified the views of 
both anarchists and socialists and made clear the distinctions 
now recognized between communism, anarchism, and socialism. 
See Chapter VIII, infra. 


only, and very ridiculous decrees on the abolition of the 
State and other nonsense were issued. You understand 
that the fact alone of a Russian — whom the newspapers 
of the bourgeoisie represented as an agent of Bismarck- 
pretending to thrust himself at the head of a Committee 
of Safety of France was quite sufficient to change com- 
pletely public opinion. As to Cluseret, he behaved at 
once like an idiot and a ,coward. These two men left 
Lyons after their failure." (15) Bakounin's so-called 
abolition of the State appealed to the humor of Marx. 
He speaks of it in another place in these words : "Then 
arrived the critical moment, the moment longed for since 
many years, when Bakounin was able to accomplish the 
most revolutionary act the world has ever seen: he de- 
creed the abolition of the State. But the State, in the 
form and aspect of two companies of national bourgeois 
guards, entered by a door which they had forgotten to 
guard, swept the hall, and caused Bakounin to hasten 
back along the road to Geneva." (16) 

Such indeed was the humiliating and vexatious ending 
of Bakounin's dream of an immediate social revolution. 
His sole reward was to be jostled, pinched, and robbed. 
This was perhaps most tragic of all, especially when 
added to this injury there was the further indignity of 
allowing the father of terrorism to keep his revolver. 
The incident is one that George Meredith should have 
immortalized in another of his "Tragic Comedians." 
However, although the insurrection at Lyons was a com- 
plete failure, the Commune of Paris was really a spon- 
taneous and memorable working-class uprising. The de- 
tails of that insurrection, the legislation of the Commune 
itself, and its violent suppression on May 28, 1871, are 
not strictly germane to this chapter, because, in fact, the 
Bakouninists played no part in it. In the case of Lyons, 


the revolution maker was at work ; in the case of Paris, 
"The working class," says Marx, "did not expect mira- 
cles from the Commune. They have no ready-made 
Utopias to introduce par decret du peuple. They know 
that in order to work out their own emancipation, and 
along with it that higher form to which present society 
is irresistibly tending, by its own economic agencies, they 
will have to pass through long struggles, through a series 
of historic processes, transforming circumstances and 
men." * But, while Marx wrote in this manner of the 
Paris Commune, he evidently had in mind men of the 
type of Bakounin when he declared : "In every revolu- 
tion there intrude, at the side of its true agents, men of 
a different stamp; some of them survivors of and de- 
votees to past revolutions, . . . others mere bawlers, 
who by dint of repeating year after year the same set of 
stereotyped declamations against the Government of the 
day have sneaked into the reputation of revolutionists 
of the first water. After the i8th of March some such 
men turned up, and in some cases contrived to play pre- 
eminent parts. As far as their power went, they ham- 
pered the real action of the working class, exactly as men 
of that sort have hampered the full development of every 
previous revolution. They are an unavoidable evil ; with 
time they are shaken ofif ; but time was not allowed to the 
Commune." (17) 

The despair of Bakounin over the miserable ending of 
his great plans for the salvation of France had, of course, 
disappeared long before the revolution broke out iri 
Spain, and he easily persuaded himself that his presence 

♦This is from "The Commune of Paris," which was read 
by Marx to the General Council of the International on May 
30, two days after the last of the combatants of the Commune 
were crushed by superior numbers on the heights of Belleville. 


there was absolutely necessary to insure its success. "I 
have always felt and thought," he wrote in the Memoire 
justHicatif, "that the most desirable end for me would be 
to fall in the midst of a great revolutionary storm." (i8) 
Consequently, in the summer of the year 1873, when the 
uprising gave promise of victory to the insurgents, Ba- 
kounin decided that he must go and, to do so, that he 
must have money. Bakounin then wrote to his wealthy 
young disciple, Cafiero, in a symbolic language which 
they had worked out between them, declaring his inten- 
tion of going to Spain and asking him to furnish the 
necessary money for his expenses. As usual, Bakounin 
became melodramatic in his effort to work upon the im- 
pressionable Cafiero, and, as he put it afterward in the 
MSmoire justHicatif, "I added a prayer that he would be- 
come the protector of my wife and my children, in case 
I should fall in Spain." (19) Cafiero, who at this time 
worshiped Bakounin, pleaded with him not to risk his 
precious life in Spain. He promised to do everything 
possible for his family in case he persisted in going, but 
he sent no money, whether because he did not have it or 
because he did not wish Bakounin to go is not clear. 
Bakounin now wrote to Guillaume that he was greatly 
disappointed not to be able to take part in the Spanish 
revolution, but that it was impossible for him to do so 
without money. Guillaume admits that he was not con- 
vinced of the absolute necessity of Bakounin's presence 
in Spain, but, nevertheless, since he desired to go there, 
Guillaume offered to secure for him fifteen hundred 
francs to make the journey. On the receipt of this news, 
Bakounin answered Guillaume that the sum would be 
wholly insufficient. 

If, however, the Spanish revolution was forced to pro- 
ceed without Bakounin, his influence in that country was 


not wanting. In the year 1873 the Spanish sections of 
the International were among the largest and most nu- 
merous in Europe. At the time of the congress of Cor- 
dova, which assembled at the close of the year 1872, 
three hundred and thirty-one sections with over twenty- 
five thousand members expressed themselves in favor of 
"anarchist and collectivist" principles. The trade unions 
were very active, and they formed the basis of the Span- 
ish movement. They had numerous organs of propa- 
ganda, and the general unrest, both political and eco- 
nomic, led for a time to an extraordinary development 
in revolutionary ideas. 

On February 11, 1873, the king abdicated and a re- 
public was proclaimed. Insurrections broke out in all 
parts of Spain. At Barcelona, Cartagena, Murcia, 
Cadiz, Seville, Granada, and Valencia there existed a 
state of civil war, while throughout the industrial dis- 
tricts strikes were both frequent and violent. Demands 
were made on all sides for shorter hours and increase of 
wages. At Alcoy ten thousand workingmen declared a 
general strike, and, when the municipal authorities op- 
posed them, they took the town by storm. In some cases 
the strikers lent their support to the republicans ; in other 
cases they followed the ideas of Bakounin, and openly 
declared they had no concern for The republic. The 
changes in the government were numerous. Indeed, for 
three years Spain, politically and industrially, was in a 
state of chaos. At times the revolt of the workers was 
suppressed with the utmost brutality. Their leaders were ' 
arrested, their papers suppressed, and their meetings dis- 
persed with bloodshed. At other times they were allowed 
to riot for weeks if the turbulence promised to aid the 
intrigues of the politicians. 

A lively discussion took place as to the wisdom of the 


tactics employed by the anarchists in Spain. Frederick 
Engels severely criticised the position of the Bakouninists 
in two articles which he published in the Volksstaat. He 
reviewed the events that had taken place during the sum- 
mer of 1873, and he condemned the folly of the anar- 
chists, who had refused to cooperate with the other revo- 
lutionary forces in Spain. In his opinion, the workers 
were simply wasting their energy and lives in pursuit 
of a distant and unattainable end. "Spain is a country 
so backward industrially," he wrote, "that it cannot be a 
question there of the immediate complete emancipation 
of the workers. Before arriving at that stage, Spain will 
still have to pass through diverse phases of development 
and struggle against a whole series of obstacles. The re- 
public furnished the means of passing through ' these 
phases most rapidly and of removing these obstacles 
most quickly. But, to accomplish that, the Spanish 
proletariat would have had to launch boldly into active 
politics. The mass of the working people realized this, 
and everywhere demanded that they should take part in 
what was happening, that they should profit by the op- 
portunities to act, instead of leaving, as formerly, the 
field free to the action and intrigues of the possessing 
classes. The government ordered elections for the Cor- 
tes members. What position should the International 
take ? The leaders of the Bakouninists were in the great- 
est dilemma. A continued political inactivity appeared 
more ridiculous and more impossible from day to day. 
The workers wanted to 'see deeds.' On the other hand, 
the alliancistes (Bakouninists) had preached for years 
that one ought not to take part in any revolution that 
had not for its end the immediate and entire emancipa* 
tion of the workers, that participation in any political 
action constituted an acceptance of the principle of the 


State, that source of all evil, and that especially taking 
part in any election was a mortal sin." (20) 

The anarchists were of course very bitter over this 
attack on their policies, and they concluded that the so- 
cialists had become reactionaries who no longer sought 
the emancipation of the working class. They were more 
than incensed at the reference Engels had made to an 
act of the insurgents of Cartagena, who, in order to gain 
allies in their struggle, had armed the convicts of a 
prison, "eighteen hundred villains, the most dangerous 
robbers and murderers of Spain." (21) According to 
Engels' information, this infamous act had been under- 
taken upon the advice of Bakounin, but, whether or not 
that is true, it was a fatal mistake that brought utter dis- 
aster to the insurgents. 

Certainly of this fact there can be no question — the 
divisions among the revolutionary forces in Spain, which 
Engels deplored, resulted, after many months of fighting, 
in returning to power the most reactionary elements in 
Spain. And this was foreseen, as even before the end 
of the summer Bakounin had despaired of success. In 
his opinion, the Spanish revolution miscarried miserably, 
"for want," as he afterward wrote, "of energy and revo- 
lutionary spirit in the leaders as well as in the masses. 
And all the rest of the world was plunged," he lamented, 
"into the most dismal reaction." (22) 

France and Spain, having now failed to launch the 
universal revolution, Bakounin's hopes turned to Italy, 
where a series of artificial uprisings among the almost 
famished peasants was being stirred up by his followers. 
Their greatest activity was during the first two weeks in 
August of the next year, 1874, and the three main cen- 
ters were Bologna, Romagna, and Apulia. In spite of 
the fact that the followers of Mazzini were opposed to 


the International, an attempt was made in the summer of 
1874 by some Italian socialists (Celso Cerretti among 
others), to effect a union in order that by common action 
they might work more advantageously against the mon- 
archy. Garibaldi, to whom these socialists appealed, at 
first disapproved of any reconciliation with Bakounin 
and his friends, but later allowed himself to be per- 
suaded. A meeting of the Mazzinian leaders to discuss 
the matter convened August 2 at the village of Ruffi. 
The older members were opposed to all common action, 
while the younger elements desired it. However, before 
an agreement was reached, twenty-eight Mazzinians were 
arrested, among them Saffi, Fortis, and Valzania. Three 
days later, the police succeeded in arresting Andrea 
Costa, for whom they had been searching for more than 
a year on account of his participation in the Interna- 
tional congress at Geneva. Although these events were 
something of a setback, the revolutionists decided that 
they had gone too far to retreat. It was then that Ba- 
kounin wrote: "And now, my friends, there remains 
nothing more for me but to die. Farewell!" (23) On 
the way to Italy he wrote to his friend, Guillaume, say- 
ing good-by to him and announcing, without explana- 
tion, that he was journeying to Italy to take part in a 
struggle from which he would not return alive. On his 
arrival in that country, however, he carefully concealed 
himself in a small house where only the revolutionary 
"intimates" could see him. 

The nights of August 7 and 8 had been chosen for the 
insurrection which was to burst forth in Bologna and 
thence to ei^end, first to Romagna, and afterward to the 
Marches and Tuscany. A group of Bologna insurgents; 
reinforced by about three thousand others from Ro-' 
magna, were to enter Bologna by the San Felice gate. 



Another group would enter the arsenal, the doors of 
which would be opened by two non-commissioned offi- 
cers, and take possession of the arms and ammunition, 
carrying them to the Church of Santa Annunziata, where 
all the guns should be stored. At certain places in the 
city material was already gathered with which to impro- 
vise barricades. One hundred republicans had promised 
to take part in the movement, not as a group, but indi- 
vidually. On the 7th copies of the proclamation of the 
Italian Committee for the Social Revolution were dis- 
tributed throughout the city, calling the masses to arms 
and urging the soldiers to make common cause with the 
people. During the nights of the 7th and 8th, groups 
from Bologna assembled at the appointed places of meet- 
ing outside the walls, but the Romagna comrades did not 
come, or at least came in very small numbers. Those 
from Imola were surrounded in their march, some being 
arrested and others being forced to retreat. At dawn 
the insurgents who had gathered under the walls of Bo- 
logna dispersed, some taking refuge in the mountains. 
Bakounin had been alone during the night, and became 
convinced that the insurrection had failed. He was try- 
ing to make up his mind to commit suicide, when his 
friend, Silvio, arrived and told him that all was not lost 
and that perhaps other attempts might yet be made. The 
following day Bakounin was removed to another retreat 
of greater safety, as numerous arrests had been made at 
Bologna, Imola, Romagna, the Marches, as well as in 
Florence, Rome, and other parts of Italy. 

About the same time a conspiracy similar to that un- 
dertaken at Bologna was launched by Enrico Malatesta 
and some friends in Apulia. A heavy chest of guns had 
been dispatched from Tarentum to a station in the prov- 
ince of Bari, from which it was carried on a cart to the 



old chateau of Castel del Monte, which had been chosen 
as the rendezvous. "Many hundreds of conspirators," 
Malatesta recounts, "had promised to meet at Castel del 
Monte. I arrived, but of all those who had sworn to be 
there we found ourselves six. No matter. We opened 
the box of arms and found it was filled with old per- 
cussion guns, but that made no difference. We armed 
ourselves and declared war on the Italian army. We 
roamed the country for some days, trying to gain over 
the peasants, but meeting with no response. The second 
day we met eight carabinieri, who opened fire on us and 
imagined that we were very numerous. Three days 
later we discovered that we were surrounded by soldiers. 
There remained only one thing to do. We buried the 
guns and decided to disperse. I hid myself in a load of 
hay, and thus succeeded in escaping from the dangerous 
region." (24) An attempt at insurrection also took 
place in Romagna, but it appears to have been limited 
to cutting the telegraph wires between Bologna and 

Back of all the Italian riots lay a serious economic 
condition. The peasants were in very deep distress, and 
it was not difficult for the Bakouninists to stir them to 
revolt. The Bulletin of the Jura Federation of August 
16 informs us: "During the last two years there have 
been about sixty riots produced by hunger ; but the riot- 
ers, in their ignorance, only bore a grudge against the 
immediate monopolists, and did not know how to discern 
the fundamental causes of their misery." (25) This is 
all too plainly shown in the events of 1874. Beyond giv- 
ing the Bakouninists a chance to play at revolution, there 
is little significance in the Italian uprisings of that year! 

The failure of the various insurrections in France, 
Spain, and Italy was, naturally enough, discouraging to 


Bakounin and his followers. The Commune of Paris 
was the one uprising that had made any serious impres- 
sion upon the people, and it was the one wherein the 
Bakouninists had played no important part. The others 
had failed miserably, with no other result than that of 
increasing the power of reaction, while discouraging and 
disorganizing the workers. Even Bakounin had now 
reached the point where he was thoroughly disillusioned, 
and he wrote to his friends that he was exhausted, dis- 
heartened, and without hope. He desired, he said, to with- 
draw from the movement which made him the object of 
the persecutions of the police and the calumnies of the 
jealous. The whole world was in the evening of a black 
reaction, he thought, and he wrote to the truest and most 
devoted of all that loyal circle of Swiss workmen, James 
Guillaume, that the time for revolutionary struggles was 
past and that Europe had entered into a period of pro- 
found reaction, of which the present generation would 
probably not see the end. "He urged me," relates Guil- 
laume, "to imitate himself and 'to make my peace with 
the bourgeoisie.' " (26) "It is useless," are Bakounin's 
words, "to wish obstinately to obtain the impossible. It 
is necessary to recognize reality and to realize that, for 
the moment, the popular masses do not wish socialism. 
And, if some tipplers of the mountains desire on this ac- 
count to accuse you of treason, you will have for yourself 
the witness of your conscience and the esteem of your 
friends." (27) 

In July, 1873, Bakounin retired to an estate that had 
been bought for him through the generosity of Cafiero, 
on the route from Locarno to Bellinzona, and for the 
next few months lavish expenditures were made in the 
construction and reconstruction of an establishment 
where the "intimates" could be entertained. That fall 


Bakounin wrote to the Jura Federation, announcing his 
retreat from public life and requesting it to accept his 
resignation. "For acting in this way," he wrote, "I have 
many reasons. Do not believe that it is principally on 
account of the personal attacks of which I have been 
made the object these last years. I do not say that I am 
absolutely insensible to such. However, I would feel 
myself strong enough to resist them if I thought that my 
further participation in your work and in your struggles 
could aid in the triumph of the cause of the proletariat. 
But I do not think so. 

"By my birth and my personal position, and doubtless 
by my s)rmpathies and my tendencies, I am only a bour- 
geois, and, as such, I could not do anything else among 
you but propaganda. Well, I have a conviction that the 
time for great theoretical discourses, whether printed or 
spoken, is past. In the last nine years there have been 
developed within the International more ideas than would 
be necessary to save the world, if ideas alone could save 
it, and I defy anybody to invent a new one." (28) 

This letter in reality marks the end of Bakounin's ac- 
tivity in the revolutionary movement. After squandering 
most of Cafiero's fortune, Bakounin sought a martyr's 
death in Italy, but in this, as in all his other exploits, he 
was unsuccessful. And from that time on to his death 
his life is a humiliating story as he sought here and there 
the necessary money for his livelihood. Nearly always 
he had been forced to live from hand to mouth. Money, 
money, money was the burden of hundreds of his let- 
ters. In order to obtain funds he had resorted to almost 
every possible plan. He had accepted money in advance 
from publishers for books which he had never had time 
to write. From time to time he would find an almoner to 
care for him, only in the end to lose him through his 


importunate and exacting demands. An account is given 
by Guillaume of what I believe is the last meeting be- 
tween Bakounin and certain of his old friends in Septem- 
ber, 1874. Ross, Cafiero, Spichiger, and Guillaume met 
Bakounin in a hotel at Neuchatel. Guillaume, it appears, 
was cold and unfeeling; Cafiero and Ross said nothing, 
while Spichiger wept silently in a corner. "The explicit 
declaration made by me . . . " says Guillaume, "took 
away from Bakounin at the very beginning all hope of a 
change in our estimation of him. It was also a question 
of money in this last interview. We offered to assure to 
our old friend a monthly pension of 300 francs, express- 
ing the hope that he would continue to write, but he re- 
fused to accept anything. As a set-off, he asked Cafiero 
to loan him 3,000 francs (no longer 5,000), . . . 
and Cafiero replied that he would do it. Then we sepa- 
rated sadly." (29) 

On the first of July, 1876, Bakounin, after a brief ill- 
ness, died at Bern at the house of his old friend, Dr. 
Vogt. The press of Europe printed various comments 
upon his life and work. The anarchists wrote their eulo- 
gies, while the socialists generally deplored the ruinous 
and disrupting tactics that Bakounin had employed in the 
International Working Men's Association. This story 
will be told later, but it is well to mention here that 
since 1869 an unbridgeable chasm had opened itself l)e-| 
tween the anarchists and the socialists. When they first 
came together in the International there was no clear 
distinction between them, but, after Bakounin was ex- 
pelled from that organization in 1872, at The Hague, his 
followers frankly called themselves anarchists, while the 
followers of Marx called themselves socialists. In prin- 
ciples and tactics they were poles apart, and the bitter- 
ness between them was at fever heat. The anarchists! 


took the principles of Bakounin and still further elabo- 
rated them, while his methods were developed from con- 
spiratory insurrections to individual acts of violence. 
While the idea of the Propaganda of the Deed is to be 
found in the writings of Bakounin and Nechayeff, it was 
left to others to put into practice that doctrine. For the 
next thirty years the principles and ideals of anarchism 
made no appreciable headway, but the deeds of the anar- 
chists became the talk and, to a degree, the terror of 
the world. 



The insurrections in France and Spain were on the 
whole spontaneous uprisings, but those disturbances in 
Italy in which the anarchists played a part were largely 
the result of agitation. Of course, adverse political and 
economic conditions were the chief causes of that gen- 
eral spirit of unrest which was prevalent in the early 
seventies in all the Latin countries, but after 1874 the 
numerous riots in which the anarchists were active were 
almost entirely the work of enthusiasts who believed they 
could make revolutions. The results of the previous up- 
risings had a terribly depressing effect upon nearly all the 
older men, but there were four youths attached to Ba- 
kounin's insurrectionary ideas whose spirits were not 
bowed down by what had occurred. Carlo Cafiero, En- 
rico Malatesta, Paul Brousse, and Prince Kropotkin 
were at the period of life when action was a joyous thing, 
and they undertook to make history. Cafiero we know as 
a young Italian of very wealthy parents. Malatesta "had 
left the medical profession and also his fortune for the 
sake of the revolution." (i) Paul Brousse was of 
French parentage, and had already distinguished himself 
in medicine, but he cast it aside in his early devotion to 
anarchism. He had rushed to Spain when the revolution 
broke out there, and he was always ready to go where- 
ever an opportunity offered itself for revolutionary activ- 
ity. The Russian prince, Kropotkin, the fourth member 


of the group, was a descendant of the Ruriks, and it was 
said sometimes, in jest, that he had more right to the 
Russian throne than Czar Alexander II. The fascinating 
story of his Hfe is, told in the "Memoirs of a Revolu- 
tionist," but modesty forbade him to say that no one 
since Bakounin has exercised so great an influence as 
himself over the principles and tactics of anarchism. 
Kropotkin first visited Switzerland in 1872, when he 
came in close contact with the men of the Jura Federa- 
tion. A week's stay with the Bakouninists converted 
hitn, he says, to anarchism. (2) He then returned to 
St. Petersburg, and shortly after entered the famous 
circle of Tchaykovsky, and, as a result of his revolution- 
ary activity, he was arrested and imprisoned in the 
Fortress of St. Peter and St. Paul. After his thrilling 
escape from prison, in 1876, Kropotkin returned to 
Switzerland, and for several years gave himself up en- 
tirely to the cause of anarchism. These four young men, 
all far removed by training and position from the work- 
ing class, after the death of Bakounin, devised the Propa- 
ganda of the Deed, a method of agitation that was 
destined to become famous throughout the world. 

Hitherto the Bakouninists had all been firmly con- 
vinced that the masses were ready to rise at a moment's 
notice in order to tear down the existing governments. 
They were obsessed with the idea that only a spark was 
needed to set the whole world into a general conflagra- 
tion. But repeated failures taught them that the masses 
were inclined to make very little sacrifice for the sake of 
communism and that stupendous eflforts were needed to 
create a revolution. It appeared to them, therefore, that 
the propaganda of words and of theories was of little 
avail. Consequently, these four youths, with their 
friends, set out to spread knowledge by acts of violence. 


Of course, they had not entirely given up the hope that 
a minority could, by a series of well-planned assaults, 
gradually sweep in after them the masses. But even 
should they fail in that, they felt that they must strike at 
the enemy, though they stood alone. Whatever hap- 
pened, they argued, the acts themselves would prove of 
great propaganda value. Even the trials would enable 
them to use the courts as a tribune, and the bourgeois 
press itself would print their words and spread through- 
out the world their doctrines. 

In the Bulletin of the Jura Federation, December 3, 
1876, Cafiero and Malatesta wrote : "The great majority 
of Italian socialists are grouped about the program of the 
Italian Federation — a program which is anarchist, col- 
lectivist, and revolutionary. And the small number who, 
up to the present, have remained on the outside — ^the 
dupes of intrigues and lies — are all beginning to enter our 
organization. We do not refer to a small group who, in- 
fluenced by personal considerations and reactionary ends, 
are trying to establish a propaganda which they call 
'gradual and peaceful.' These have already been judged 
in the opinion of the Italian socialists and represent noth- 
ing but themselves. 

"The Italian Federation believes that the insurrec- 
tionary deed, destined to affirm socialist principles by 
acts, is the most efficacious means of propaganda." (3) 
The next year Paul Brousse originated the famous 
phrase, the Propaganda of the Deed. He reviews in the 
Bulletin the various methods of propaganda which had 
previously been employed. "Propaganda from indi- 
vidual to individual, propaganda by mass meeting or con- 
ference, propaganda by newspaper, pamphlet, or book — ■ 
these means," he declares, "are adapted only to theoreti- 
cal propaganda. Besides, they become more and more 


difficult to employ in any efficacious fashion in the pres- 
ence of those means possessed by the bourgeoisie, with 
its orators, trained at the bar and knowing how to 
wheedle the popular assemblies, and with its venal press 
which calumniates and disguises everything." (4) In 
the opinion of Brousse, the workers, "laboring most of 
the time eleven and twelve hours a day . . . return 
home so exhausted by fatigue that they have little desire 
to read socialist books and newspapers." (5) Rejecting 
thus all other methods of propaganda, Brousse con- 
cludes that "the Propaganda of the Deed is a powerful 
means of awakening the popular conscience." (6) 

Kropotkin was even more enthusiastic over this new 
method of education. "A single deed," he declared, 
"makes more propaganda in a few days than a thousand 
pamphlets. The government defends itself, it rages piti- 
lessly; but by this it only causes further deeds to be 
committed by one or more persons, and drives the in- 
surgents to heroism. One deed brings forth another; 
opponents join the mutiny; the government splits into 
factions; harshness intensifies the conflict; concessions 
come too late; the revolution breaks out." (7) Here at 
last is the famous Propaganda of the Deed, destined to 
such tragic ends. It owes its inspiration, of course, to 
the teachings of Bakounin, and we find among these 
youths the same contempt for words and theories that 
Bakoimin himself had, and they proposed, in the words 
of Bakounin, "to destroy something — a person, a cause, 
a condition that hinders the emancipation of the peo- 
ple." (8) Consequently, they undertook immediately to 
carry into eflEect these new theories of propaganda, and 
during the year 1877 they organized two important dem- 
onstrations, the avowed purpose of which was to show 
anarchism in action. 


The first event, which occurred at Bern, March 18, 
under the leadership of Paul Brousse, was a manifesta- 
tion to celebrate the anniversary of the proclamation of 
the Commune. All the members of the Jura Federation 
were invited to take part, and the red flag was to be un- 
furled. Among the most conspicuous in this demonstra- 
tion were Brousse, Werner, Chopard, Schwitzguebel, 
Kropotkin, Pindy, Jeallot, Ferre, Spichiger, Guillaume, 
and George Plechanoff, recently arrived from St. Peters- 
burg. The participants became mixed up in a violent 
affray in the streets, blows were exchanged between them 
and the police, but in the effort to tear away the red 
flags many of the gendarmes were wounded. The climax 
came on August 16 of the same year, when twenty-five 
of the manifestants appeared before the correctional tri- 
bunal of Bern, accused "(i) of participation in a brawl 
with deadly instruments, (2) of resisting, by means of 
force, the employees of the police." Most of the pris- 
oners were condemned to imprisonment, the terms vary- 
ing from ten days to two months. James Guillaume was 
condemned to forty days, Brousse to a month. The lat- 
ter and five other convicted foreigners were also ban- 
ished for three years from the canton of Bern. (9) 

The second of these demonstrations took place in 
April in the form of an insurrectionary movement of the 
Internationalists of Italy. They chose the massive group 
of mountains which border on the Province of Benevent 
for the scene of their operations, and made Naples their 
headquarters. During the whole of the preceding win- 
ter they were occupied in making their preparations, and 
endeavoring to gain the support of the peasants of the 
near-by villages. They instructed all those who joined 
their cause from Emilia, Romagna, and Tuscany to be 
ready for action the beginning of April, as soon as the 


snow disappeared from the summits of the Apennines. 
According to information furnished by Malatesta to 
Guillaume, on April 6 and 7 they journeyed from San 
Lupo (Province of Benevent) into the region at the south 
of the Malta Mountains (Province of Caserte). On 
the 8th they attacked the communes of Letino and Gallo, 
burned the archives of the first named, pillaged the treas- 
ury of the preceptor, and burned the parish house of the 
second. On the 9th and loth they tried to penetrate the 
other communes, but in vain, for they found them all 
occupied by troops sent directly by the government to 
oppose them. Their provisions were exhausted, and they 
would have bought a fresh supply in the village of 
Venafro, only the soldiers gave the alarm and pursued 
the band as far as a wood, in which they hid themselves. 
All of the nth was spent in a long march through rain 
and snow. The jaded band was finally surprised and 
captured in a sheepfold, where they had sought shelter 
for that night. Two of the revolutionists escaped, but 
were recaptured a short time afterward. They were con- 
fined in the prison of Santa-Maria Capua Visere, to the 
number of thirty-seven, among them being Cafiero, Mala- 
testa, Ceccarelli,.Lazzari, Fortini (cure of Letino), Tom- 
burri Vincenzo (cure of Gallo), Stamari, and others. 
On December 30 the Chamber of Arraignment of Naples 
rendered its decision. The two priests and a man who 
had served as guide to the insurgents were exempted 
from punishment, but the thirty-four others were sent 
before the court of assizes on the charge of conspiracy 
against the security of the State. As these were politi- 
cal crimes, which were covered by a recent amnesty, 
there remained only the murder of a carabineer, of which 
the court of assizes of Benevent finally acquitted Ca- 
fiero, Malatesta, and their friends in August, 1878. (10) 


By the above series of events the Propaganda of the 
Deed was launched, and from this day on it became a 
recognized method of propaganda. Neither money, nor 
organization, nor literature was any longer absolutely 
necessary. One human being in revolt with torch or 
dynamite was able to instruct the world. Bakounin and 
NechayeflE had written their principles, and had, in fact, 
in some measure, endeavored to carry them into effect. 
But the Propaganda of the Deed was no more evolved as 
a principle of action than these four daring youths put 
it into practice. In the next few years it became.the chief 
expression of anarchism, and little by little it made the 
very name of anarchism synonymous with violence and 
crime. Surely these four zealous youths could hardly 
have devised a method of propaganda that could have 
served more completely to defeat their purpose. 

The year 1878 witnessed a series of violent acts which 
brought in their train serious consequences. In that year 
an attempt was made upon the life of King Humbert 
of Italy; and, while driving in Berlin with his daughter, 
the Grand Duchess of Baden, Emperor William was shot 
at by a half-witted youth named Hodel. Three weeks 
later Dr. Karl Nobiling fired at the Emperor from an 
upper window overlooking the Unter den Linden. These 
assaults were made to serve as the pretext for a series of 
brutally repressive measures against the German social- 
ists, although the authorities were unable to connect 
either Hodel or Nobiling with the anarchists or with the 
socialists. An excellent opportunity, however, had arrived 
to deal a crushing blow to socialism, and "Bismarck used 
his powerful influence with the press," August Bebel 
says, "in order to lash the public into a fanatical hatred 
of the social-deiriocratic party. Others who had an in- 
terest in the defeat of the party joined in, especially a 


majority of the employers. Henceforth our opponents 
spoke of us exclusively as the party of assassins, or the 
'Ruin air party — a party that wished to rob the masses 
of their faith in God, the monarchy, the family, mar- 
riage, and property." (ii) The attempt to destroy the 
German socialist organization was only one of the many 
repressive measures that were taken by the governments 
of Europe in the midst of the panic. To the terrorism 
of the anarchists the governments responded by a terror- 
ism of repression, and this in itself helped to establish 
murderous assaults as a method of propaganda: 

Up to this time Germany had been comparatively free 
from anarchist teachings. A number of the Lassalleans 
had advocated violent methods. Hasselmann had several 
years before launched the Red Flag, which advocated 
much that was not in harmony with socialism, and even- 
tually the German socialist congress requested him to 
cease the publication of his paper. A few individuals 
without great influence had endeavored at various times 
to import Bakounin's philosophy and methods into Ger- 
many, but their propaganda bore no fruit whatever. It 
was only when the German Government began to imi- 
tate the terrorism of the Russian bureaucracy that a mo- 
mentary passion for retaliation arose among the social- 
ists. In fact, a few notable socialists went over to an- 
archism, frankly declaring their belief in terrorist tac- 
tics. And one of the most striking characters in the 
history of terrorism, Johann Most, was a product of Bis- 
marck's man-hunting policies and legal tyranny. Never- 
theless, those policies failed utterly to provoke the ex- 
tensive retaliation which Bismarck expected, although it 
was a German who, after five attempts had been made 
on the life of Czar Alexander II. of Russia — the last be- 
ing successful — proposed at an anarchist congress in 


Paris, in 1881, the forcible removal of all the potentates 
of the earth. This was rejected by the Paris conference 
as "at present not yet suitable," (12) although the idea 
proved attractive to some anarchists who even believed 
that a few daring assaults could so terrify the royal fam- 
ilies of Europe that they would be forced to abdicate 
their power. 

During the same period the anarchist movement was 
developing in Austria-Hungary. A number of anarchist 
newspapers were launched, and a ceaseless agitation was 
in progress under the guidance of Peukert, Stellmacher, 
and Kammerer. Host's Freiheit was smuggled into the 
country in large quantities and was read greedily. At the 
trial of Merstallinger it was shown that the money for 
anarchist agitation was obtained by robbery. This dis- 
covery added to the bitterness of the fight going on be- 
tween the socialists and the anarchists. The anarchists, 
however, overpowered their opponents, and everywhere 
secret printing presses were busily producing incendiary 
literature which advocated the murder of police officials 
and otherwise developed the tactics of terrorism. "At a 
secret conference at Lang Enzersdorf," says Zenker, "a 
new plan of action was discussed and adopted, namely, to 
proceed with all means in their power to take action 
against "exploiters and agents of authority,' to keep peo- 
ple in a state of continual excitement by such acts of ter- 
rorism, and to bring about the revolution in every possi- 
ble way. This program was immediately acted upon in 
the murder of several police agents. On December 15, 
1883, at Floridsdorf, a police official named Hlubek was 
murdered, and the condemnation of Rouget, who was ( 
convicted of the crime, on June 23, 1884, was imme- \ 
diately answered the next day by the murder of the po- ' 
lice agent Bloct. The Government now took energetic 


measures. By order of the Ministry, a state of siege was 
proclaimed in Vienna and district from January 30, 1884, 
by which the usual tribunals for certain crimes and 
offences were temporarily suspended, and the severest 
repressive measures were -exercised against the anar- 
chists, so that anarchism in Austria rapidly declined, and 
at the same time it soon lost its leaders. Stellmacher and 
Kammerer were executed, Peukert escaped to England, 
most of the other agitators were fast in prison, the jour- 
nals were suppressed and the groups broken up." (13) 

While these events were taking place in Austria, anar- 
chist agitation was manifesting itself in several great 
strikes that broke out in the industrial centers of South- 
ern France. At Lyons, Fournier, who shot his employer 
in the open street, was honored in a public meeting by the 
presentation of a revolver. A great demonstration was 
planned for Paris, but, as there happened to be a review 
of troops on the day set, the anarchists decided to aban- 
don the demonstration. In the autumn of the same year 
(1882), troubles arose in Monceau-les-Mines and at 
Blanzy, where the workers were bent under a terrible 
capitalist and clerical domination. Under the circum- 
stances, the anarchist propaganda was very welcome, and 
it was only a short time until it produced an anti-religious 
demonstration. Three or four hundred men, armed with 
pitchforks and revolvers, spread over the country, break- 
ing the crosses and the statues of the Virgin which 
were placed at the junctions of the roads. They called 
the working classes to arms and took as hostages land- 
lords, cures, and functionaries. These riots were the 
childlike manifestations of exasperated and miserable 
men, destined in advance to failure. Numerous arrests 
followed, and in the mines the workers suffered increased 


In 1882 the great silk industry of Lyons was undergo- 
ing a serious crisis, and the misery among the weavers 
was intense. The anarchists were carrying on a big agi- 
tation led by Kropotkin, Gautier, Bordas, Bernard, and 
others. In the center of this city reduced almost to 
starvation there was, says Kropotkin, an "underground 
cafe at the Theatre Bellecour, which remained open all 
night, and where, in the small hours of the morning, one 
could see newspaper men and politicians feasting and 
drinking in company with gay women. Not a meeting 
was held but some menacing allusion was made to that 
cafe, and one night a dynamite cartridge was exploded 
in it by an unknown hand. A worker who was occa- 
sionally there, a socialist, jumped to blow out the lighted 
fuse of the cartridge, and was killed, while a few of the 
feasting politicians were slightly wounded. Next day a 
dynamite cartridge was exploded at the doors of a re- 
cruiting bureau, and it was said that the anarchists in- 
tended to blow up the huge statue of the Virgin which 
stands on one of the hills of Lyons." (14) A panic 
seized the wealthier classes of the city, and some sixty 
anarchists were arrested, including Kropotkin. A great 
trial, known as the Proces des Anarchistes de Lyons, en- 
sued, which lasted many weeks. At the conclusion only 
three out of the entire number were acquitted. Although 
nearly all the anarchists were condemned, the police of 
Lyons were still searching for the author of the explo- 
sion. At last, Cyvoct, a militant anarchist of Lyons, was 
identified as the one who had thrown the bomb. Cyvoct 
had first gone to Switzerland, then to Brussels, in the 
suburbs of which city he was finally arrested. He was 
given over to the French police, appeared before the 
court of assizes of the Rhone, and was condemned to 


death. His sentence was afterward commuted to that of 
enforced labor, and in 1897 he was pardoned. 

On March 29, 1883, the carpenters' union of Paris 
called the unemployed to a meeting to be held on the 
Esplanade des Invalides. Two groups of anarchists 
formed. One started toward the £lysee and was scat- 
tered on its way by the police. The second went toward 
the suburb of Saint-Antoine. On the march many baker- 
ies were robbed by the manifestants. Arrived at Place 
Maubert, they clashed with a large force of police. As 
a result, many arrests were made. Accused of inciting 
to pillage, Louise Michel and fimile Pouget were con- 
demned to several years' imprisonment. The same 
month, at Monceau-les-Mines and in Paris, great dem- 
onstrations of the "unemployed" took place in the streets, 
combined with robbery and dynamite outrages, while in 
July there were sanguinary encounters with the armed 
forces in Roubaix and elsewhere. Again and again the 
populace was incited to rise against the bourgeoisie, 
"who (it was said) were indulging in festivities while 
they had condemned Louise Michel, the champion of the 
proletariat, to a cruel imprisonment." (15) 

These are but a few instances of the activity of the 
anarchists at the end of the seventies and at the begin- 
ning of the eighties. They are perhaps sufficient to show 
that the Propaganda of the Deed was making headway 
in Western Europe. Certainly in Germany and Austria 
its course was soon run, but in France, Italy, Spain, and 
even in Belgium every strike was attended with violence. 
Insurrections, dynamite outrages, assassinations — all 
played their part. At the same time the governments 
carried on a ferocious persecution, and the chief anar- 
chists were driven from place to place and hunted as 
wild animals. Police spies and agents provocateurs 


swarmed over the labor, socialist, and anarchist move- 
ments, and at the slightest sign of an uprising the sol- 
diers were brought out to shoot down the people. Hardly 
a month went by without some "anarchist trouble," and 
many harmless strikes resulted in dreadful massacres. 
It was a tragic period, that reminds one again of the pic- 
ture in Dante in which the two bitter enemies inflict 
upon each other cruel wounds in a fight that on both 
sides was inspired by the deepest hatred. 



While the above events were transpiring in the Latin 
countries, the Bakouninists were keeping a sharp eye 
on America as a land of hopeful possibilities. As early 
as 1874 Bakounin himself considered the matter of com- 
ing here, while Kropotkin and Guillaume followed with 
intei;est the labor disturbances that were at that time so 
numerous and so violent in this country. The panic of 
1873 had caused widespread suffering among the working 
classes. For several years afterward hordes of unem- 
ployed tramped the country. The masses were driven 
to desperation and, in their hunger, to frequent out- 
breaks of violence. When later a measure of prosperity 
returned, both the trade-union and the socialist move- 
ments began to attract multitudes of the discontented. 
The news of two important events in the labor world of 
America reached the anarchists of the Jura and filled 
them, Guillaume says, "with a lively emotion." In June, 
1877, Kropotkin called attention to the act of the Su- 
preme Court of the United States in declaring unconsti- 
tutional the eight-hour law on Government work. He 
was especially pleased with an article in the Labor Stand- 
ard of New York, which declared : "This will teach the 
workers not to put their confidence in Congress and to 
trust only in their own efforts. No law of Congress 
could be of any use to the worker if he is not so organ- 
ized that he can enforce it. And, if the workers are 



strong enough to do that, if they succeed in solidly form- 
ing the federation of their trade organizations, then they 
will be able, not only to force the legislators to make 
efficacious laws on the hours of work, on inspection, etc., 
but they will also be able to make the law themselves, 
deciding that henceforth no worker in the country shall 
work more than eight hours a day." "It is the good, 
practical sense of an American which says that," (i) 
comments Kropotkin. This act of the Supreme Court 
and this statement of the Labor Standard were very wel- 
come news to the anarchists. They were convinced that 
the Americans had abandoned political action and were 
turning to what they had already begun to call "direct 

Another event, a month later, added to this conviction. 
In its issue of July 29 the Bulletin published this article : 
" 'Following a strike of the machinists of the Baltimore 
& Ohio Railroad, a popular insurrection has burst forth 
in the states of Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, 
and Ohio. If at Martinsburg (West Virginia) the work- 
men have been conquered by the militia, at Baltimore 
(Maryland), a city of 300,000 inhabitants, they have 
been victorious. They have taken possession of the sta- 
tion and have burned it, together with all the wagons of 
petroleum which were there. At Pittsburgh (Pennsyl- 
vania), a city of 100,000 inhabitants, the workers are at 
the present time masters of the city, after having seized 
guns and cannon. . . . The strike is extending to the 
near-by railroads and is gaining in the direction of the 
Pacific. Great agitation reigns in New York. It is an- 
nounced that the troops will concentrate, that Sheridan 
has been named commander, and that the Western States 
have ofifered their help.' In the following number, a de- 
tailed article, written by Kropotkin, recounted the de- 


nouement of the crisis, the recovery of Pittsburgh, where 
two thousand wagons loaded with merchandise had been 
burned, the repression and the disarray of the strikers 
following the treachery of the miserable false brothers, 
and the final miscarriage of the movement. But if there 
had been, in this attempt of popular insurrection, weak 
sides that had brought about the failure, Kropotkin 
rightly praised the qualities of which the American work- 
ing people had just given proof: 'This movement will 
have certainly impressed profoundly the proletariat of 
Eui-ope and excited its admiration. Its spontaneity, its 
simultaneousness at so many distant points communicat- 
ing only by telegraph, the aid given by the workers of 
different trades, the resolute character of the uprising 
from the beginning, call forth all our sympathies, excite 
our admiration, and awaken our hopes. . . . But the 
blood of our brothers of America shall not have flowed in 
vain. Their energy, their union in action, their courage 
will serve as an example to the proletariat of Europe. 
But would that this flowing of noble blood prove once 
again the blindness of those who amuse the people with 
the plaything of parliamentarism when the powder maga- 
zine is ready to take fire, unknown to them, at the fall 
of the least spark.' " (2) 

The news of industrial troubles, such as the above, 
convinced the anarchist elements of Europe that Amer- 
ica was ripe for direct action and the revolution. And 
it was indeed this period of profound industrial unrest 
that gave a forward impulse to all radical movements in 
the late seventies. Socialist newspapers sprang up in all 
parts of the country, and both socialist and trade-union 
organizations took on an immense development. Riots, 
minor insurrections, and strikes were symptoms of an 
all-pervading discontent. Simultaneously with this, many 


revolutionists, upon being expelled from Germany, were 
injected into the ferment. With many other refugees, 
the Germans then began to form revolutionary clubs, and, 
in 1882, Johann Most appeared in the United States 
scattering broadcast the terrorist ideas of Bakounin and 

Most was perhaps the most fiery personality that ap- 
peared in the ranks of the anarchists after the death of 
Bakounin. A cruel stepmother, a pitiless employer, a long 
sickness, and an operation which left his face deformed 
forever are some of the incidents of his unhappy child- 
hood. He received a poor education, but read exten- 
sively, and as a bookbinder worked at his trade in Ger- 
many, Austria, Italy, and Switzerland. He became at- 
tached to the labor movement toward the end of the six- 
ties, and was elected to the German Reichstag in 1874. 
Forced to leave Germany as a result of the anti-socialist 
law, he went to London, where he established Die Frei- 
heit, at first a social-democratic paper, which was smug- 
gled into Germany. He became, however, more and 
more violent, and in 1880, at a secret gathering of the 
German socialists at Wyden in Switzerland, he and his 
friend Hasselmann were expelled from the Germany 
party. After this he no longer attempted to conceal his 
anarchist sympathies, and in the Freiheit, on the plat- 
form, and on every possible occasion he preached prin- 
ciples almost identical with those of Nechayeff and 
Bakounin. In a pamphlet on the scientific art of revolu- 
tionary warfare and of dynamiters he prescribes in de- 
tail where bombs should be placed in churches, palaces, 
and ball-rooms.* He advises wholly individual action, 
in order that the groups may suffer as little harm as pos- 
sible. His pamphlet also contains a dictionary of poisons 
* See Revolutionare Kriegswissenschaft. 


which may be usefully employed against politicians, 
traitors, and spies. "Extirpate the miserable brood !" he 
writes in Die Freiheit; "extirpate the wretches! Thus 
runs the refrain of a revolutionary song of the working 
classes, and this will be the exclamation of the executive 
of a victorious proletariat army when the battle has been 
won. For at the critical moment the executioner's block 
must ever be before the eyes of the revolutionist. 
Either he is cutting off the heads of his enemies or his 
own is being cut off. Science gives us means which 
make jt possible to accomplish the wholesale destruction 
of these beasts quietly and deliberately." Elsewhere he 
says, "Those of the reptile brood who are not put to 
the sword remain as a thorn in the flesh of the new so- 
ciety ; hence it would be both foolish and criminal not to 
annihilate utterly this race of parasites." (3) 

It was this cheerful individual who, after being ex- 
pelled from the German socialist party, made prodigious 
efforts to establish revolutionary organizations all over 
Europe. In London he captured the Communist Work- 
ing Men's Educational Society, despite the protest of a 
considerable minority, and through it he undertook to 
launch other revolutionary clubs. The parliamentary so- 
cialists were bitterly assailed, and a congress was held in 
Paris and a later one in London for the purpose of unit- 
ing the revolutionists of all countries. According to 
Zenker, the headquarters of the association were at Lon- 
don, and sub-committees were formed to act in Paris, 
Geneva, and New York. Money was to be collected "for 
the purchase of poison and weapons, as well as to find 
places suitable for laying mines, and so on. To attain the 
proposed end, the annihilation of all rulers, ministers qf 
State, nobility, the clergy, the most prominent capital-, 
ists, and other exploiters, any means are permissible, and 


therefore great attention should be given specially to the 
study of chemistry and the preparation of explosives, as 
being the most important weapons. Together with the 
chief committee in London there will also be established 
an executive bureau, whose duty is to carry out the de- 
cisions of the chief committee and to conduct corre- 
spondence." (4) 

After these attempts to establish an anarchist Inter- 
national, Most sailed for New York. Some of his ideas 
had preceded him, and when he arrived he was met and 
greeted by masses of German workingmen. Miss Emma 
Goldman, in "Anarchism and Other Essays," tells us of 
the impression he made upon her. "Some twenty-one 
years ago," she says, "I heard the first great anarchist 
speaker — the inimitable John Most. It seemed to me 
then, and for many years after, that the spoken word 
hurled forth among the masses with such wonderful elo- 
quence, such enthusiasm and fire, could never be erased 
from the human mind and soul. How could any one 
of all the multitudes who flocked to Most's meetings es- 
cape his prophetic voice!" (5) At the time of 
Most's arrival the American socialist movement was 
hopelessly divided over questions of methods and 
tactics. Already there had been bitter quarrels be- 
tween those in the movement who had formed se- 
cret drilling organizations which were preparing for a 
violent revolution, and those others who sought by edu- 
cation, organization, and political action to achieve their 
demands. In the year 1880 a number of New York 
members had left the socialist organization and formed 
a revolutionary group, and in October of the following 
year a convention was held to organize the various revo- 
lutionary groups into a national organization. Every- 
thing was favorable for Most, and ,when he arrived it 


was not long, with his magnetic personality and fiery agi- 
tation, until he had swept out of existence the older so- 
cialist organizations. In 1883 representatives from 
twenty-six cities met in Pittsburgh to form the revolu- 
tionary socialist and anarchist groups into one body, 
called the "International Working People's Association." 
The same year a dismal socialist convention was held in 
Baltimore with only sixteen delegates attending. They 
attempted to stem the tide to terrorism by declaring: 
"We do not share the folly of the men who consider 
dynamite bombs as the best means of agitation. We 
know full well that a revolution must take place in the 
heads and in the industrial life of men before the work- 
ing class can achieve lasting success." (6) 

The tide, however, was not stayed. The advocates of 
direct action continued headlong toward the bitter climax 
at the H'aymarket in Chicago in 1886. Just previous to 
that fatal catastrophe, a series of great strikes had oc- 
curred in and about that city. At the McCormick 
Reaper Works a crowd of men was being addressed by 
Spies, an anarchist, when the "scabs" left the factory. 
A pitched battle ensued. The police were called, and, 
when they were assaulted with stones, they opened fire 
on the crowd, shooting indiscriminately men, women, 
and children, killing six and wounding many more. 
Spies, full of rage, hurried to the office of Arieiter Zei- 
tung, the anarchist paper, and composed the proclama- 
tion to the workingmen of Chicago which has since be- 
come famous as "the revenge circular." It called upon 
the workingmen to arm themselves and to avenge the 
brutal murder of their brothers. Five thousand copies 
of the circular, printed in English and German, were 
distributed in the streets. The next evening. May 4, 
1886, a mass meeting was called at the Haymarket. 


About two thousand working people attended the meet- 
ing. The mayor of the city went in person to hear the 
addresses, and later testified that he had reported to Cap- 
tain Bonfield, at the nearest police station, that "nothing 
had occurred nor was likely to occur to require inter- 
ference." Nevertheless, after Mayor Harrison had gone, 
Captain Bonfield sent one hundred and seventy-six po- 
licemen to march upon the little crowd that remained. 
Captain Ward, the officer in charge, commanded the 
meeting to disperse, and, as Fielden, one of the speakers, 
retorted that the meeting was a peaceable one, a dyna- 
mite bomb was thrown from an adjoining alley that 
killed several policemen and wounded many more. 

In the agitation that led up to the Haymarket tragedy, 
dynamite had always been glorified as the poor man's 
weapon. It was the power that science had given to the 
weak to protect them from injustice and tyranny. As 
powder and the musket had destroyed feudalism, so 
dynamite would destroy capitalism. In the issue of the 
Freiheit, March 18, 1883, Most printed an article called 
"Revolutionary Principles." Many of the phrases are 
evidently taken from the "Catechism" of Bakounin and 
Nechayeff, and the sentiments are identical. During all 
this period great meetings were organized to glorify some 
martyr who, by the Propaganda of the Deed, had com- 
mitted some great crime. For instance, vast meetings 
were organized in honor of Stellmacher and others who 
had murdered officers of the Viennese police. At one of 
these meetings Most declared that such acts should not 
be called murder, because "murder is the killing of a 
human being, and I have never heard that a policeman 
was a human being." (7) When August Reinsdorf was 
jexecuted for an attempt on the life of the German Em- 
peror, Most's Freiheit appeared with a heavy black bor- 


der. "One of our noblest and best is no more," he la- 
ments. "In the prison yard at Halle under the murder- 
ous sword of the criminal HohenzoUern band, on the 7th 
of February, August Reinsdorf ended a life full of bat- 
tle and of self-sacrificing courage, as a martyr to the 
great revolution." (8) It was inevitable that such views 
should lead sooner or later to a tragedy, and, while most 
of the Chicago anarchists were plain workingmen, simple 
and kindly, at least one fanatic in the group deserves to 
rank with Nechayeff and Most as an irreconcilable enemy 
of the existing order. This was Louis Lingg, whose last 
words as he was taken from the court were: "I re- 
peat that I am the enemy of the 'order' of to-day, and I 
repeat that, with all my powers, so long as breath re- 
mains in me, I shall combat it. I declare again, frankly 
and openly, that I am in favor of using force. I have 
told Captain Schaack, and I stand by it, 'If you can- 
nonade us, we shall dynamite you.' You laugh! Per- 
haps you think, 'You'll throw no more bombs'; but let 
me assure you that I die happy on the gallows, so confi- 
dent am I that the hundreds and thousands to whom I 
have spoken will remember my words; and, when you 
shall have hanged us, then, mark my words, they will do 
the bomb-throwing! In this hope I say to you: I de- 
spise you. I despise your order, your laws, your force- 
propped authority. Hang me for it !" (9) 

There are many minor incidents now quite forgotten 
that played a part in this American terrorism. Benjamin 
R. Tucker, of New York, himself an anarchist, but not 
an advocate of terrorist tactics, had in the midst of this 
period to cry out in protest against the acts of those who 
called themselves anarchists. In his paper, LiSePfiK 
March 27, 1886, Tucker wrote on "The Beast of Cor- 
munism." (10) He began by quoting Henri Rochefoi 


who was reported to have said : "Anarchists are merely 
criminals. They are robbers. They want no govern- 
ment whatever, so that, when they meet you on the street, 
they can knock you down and rob you." (ii) 

"This infamous and libelous charge," says Tucker, "is 
a very sweeping one; I only wish that I could honestly 
meet it with as sweeping a denial. And I can, if I re- 
strict the word anarchist as it always has been restricted 
in these columns, and as it ought to be restricted every- 
where and always. Confining the word anarchist so as 
to include none but those who deny all external authority 
over the individual, whether that of the present State or 
that of some industrial collectivity or commune which 
the future may produce, I can look Henri Rochefort in 
the face and say : 'You lie !' For of all these men I do 
not recall even one who, in any ordinary sense of the 
term, can be justly styled a robber. 

"But unfortunately, in the minds of the people at large, 
this word anarchist is not yet thus restricted in meaning. 
This is due principally to the fact that within a few 
years the word has been usurped, in the face of all logic 
and consistency, by a party of communists who believe 
in a tyranny worse than any that now exists, who deny 
to the laborer the individual possession of his product, 
and who preach to their followers the following doctrine : 
'Private property is your enemy; it is the beast that is 
devouring you; all wealth belongs to everybody; take it 
wherever you can find it; have no scruples about the 
means of taking it ; use dynamite, the dagger, or the torch 
to take it ; kill innocent people to take it ; but, at all events, 
take it.' This is the doctrine which they call anarchy, 
and this policy they dignify with the name of 'propa- 
gandism by deed.' 

"Well, it has borne fruit with most horrible fecundity. 


To be sure, it has gained a large mass of adherents, espe- 
cially in the Western cities, who are well-meaning men 
and women, not yet become base enough to practice the 
theories which they profess to have adopted. But it has 
also developed, and among its immediate and foremost 
supporters, a gang of criminals whose deeds for the past 
two years rival in 'pure cussedness' any to be found in 
the history of crime. Were it not, therefore, that I have 
first, last, and always repudiated these pseudo-anarchists 
and their theories, I should hang my head in shame be- 
fore Rochefort's charge at having to confess that too 
many of them are not only robbers, but incendiaries and 
murderers. But, knowing as I do that no real anarchist 
has any part or lot in these infamies, I do not confess the 
facts with shame, but reiterate them with righteous wrath 
and indignation, in the interest of my cause, for the pro- 
tection of its friends, and to save the lives and posses- 
sions of any more weak and innocent persons from being 
wantonly destroyed or stolen by cold-blooded villains 
parading in the mask of reform. 

"Yes, the time has come to speak. It is even well-nigh 
too late. Within the past fortnight a young mother and 
her baby boy have been burned to death under circum- 
stances which suggest to me the possibility that, had I 
made this statement sooner, their lives would have been 
saved ; and, as I now write these lines, I fairly shudder at 
the thought that they may not reach the public and the 
interested parties before some new holocaust has added 
to the number of those who have already fallen victims. 
Others who know the facts, well-meaning editors of lead- 
ing journals of so-called communistic anarchism, may7 
from a sense of mistaken party fealty, bear longer the 
fearful responsibility of silence, if they will; for one I 
will not, cannot. I will take the other responsibility of 


exposure, which responsibility I personally and entirely 
assume, although the step is taken after conference upon" 
its wisdom with some of the most trusted and active 
anarchists in America. 

"Now, then, the facts. And they are facts, though I 
state them generally, without names, dates, or details. 

"The main fact is this: that for nearly two years a 
large number of the most active members of the Ger- 
man Group of the International Working People's As- 
socation in New York City, and of the Social Revolution- 
ary Club, another German organization in that city, have 
been persistently engaged in getting money by insuring 
their property for amounts far in excess of the real 
value thereof, secretly removing everything that they 
could, setting fire to the premises, swearing to heavy 
losses, and exacting corresponding sums from the insur- 
ance companies. Explosion of kerosene lamps is usually 
the device which they employ. Some seven or eight fires, 
at least, of this sort were set in New York and Brooklyn 
in 1884 by members of the gang, netting the beneficiaries 
an aggregate profit of thousands of dollars. In 1885 
nearly twenty more were set, with equally profitable re- 
sults. The record for 1886 has reached six already, if 
not more. The business has been carried on with the 
most . astonishing audacity. One of these men hiad his 
premises insured, fired them, and presented his bill of 
loss to the company within twenty-four hours after get- 
ting his policy, and before the agent had reported the pol- 
icy to the company. The bill was paid, and a few months 
later the same fellow, under another name, played the 
game over again, though not quite so speedily. In one 
of the fires set in 1885 a woman and two children were 
burned to death. The two guilty parties in this case 
were members of the Bohemian Group and are now serv- 


ing life sentences in prison. Another of the fires was 
started in a six-story tenement house, endangering the 
lives of hundreds, but fortunately injuring no one but 
the incendiary. In one case in 1886 the firemen have 
saved two women whom they found clinging to their 
bed posts in a half-suffocated condition. In another a 
man, woman, and baby lost their lives. Three members 
of the gang are now in jail awaiting trial for murdering 
and robbing an old woman in Jersey City. Two others 
are in jail under heavy bail and awaiting trial for carry- 
ing concealed weapons and assaulting an officer. They 
were walking arsenals, and were found under circum- 
stances which lead to the suspicion that they were about 
to perpetrate a robbery, if not a murder. 

"The profits accruing from this 'propagandism by 
deed' are not even used for the benefit of the movement 
to which the criminals belong, but go to fill their own 
empty pockets, and are often spent in reckless, riotous 
living. The guilty parties are growing bolder and bolder, 
and, anticipating detection ultimately, a dozen or so of 
them have agreed to commit perjury in order to involve 
the innocent as accomplices in their crimes. It is their 
boast that the active anarchists shall all go to the gallows 

The history of terrorist tactics in America largely cen- 
ters about the career of Johann Most. In August Bebel's 
story of his life he speaks in high terms of the unselfish 
devotion and sterling character of Most in his early days. 
"If later on," says Bebel, "under the anti-socialist laws, 
he went astray and became an anarchist and an advocate 
of direct action, and finally, although he had been a model 
of abstinence, ended in the United States as a drunkard, 
it was all due to the anti-socialist laws, laws which drove 


him and many others from the country. Had he re- 
mained under the influence of the men who were able to 
guide him and restrain his passionate temper, the party 
would have possessed in him a most zealous, self-sacrific- 
ing, and indefatigable fighter." (12) Most, then, was 
one of the victims of Bismarck's savage policies, as were 
also nearly all the other Germans who took part in the 
sordid crimes related by Tucker. And the Haymarket — 
the greatest of all American tragedies — leads directly 
back to the Iron Chancellor and his ferocious inquisi- 

A few minor incidents of anarchist activity may be re- 
corded for the following years, but the only acts of im- 
portance were the shooting of President McKinley by 
Czolgosz and the shooting of Henry C. Frick by Alex- 
ander Berkman. In the "Prison Memoirs of an Anar- 
chist," Berkman has now told us that as a youth he be- 
came a disciple of Bakounin and a fiery member of the 
Nihilist group. It was after the Homestead strike that 
Berkman saw a chance to propagate his gospel by a deed. 
Leaving his home in New York, he went to Pittsburgh 
for the purpose of killing Henry C. Frick, then head of 
the Carnegie Steel Company. Berkman made his way 
into Frick's office, shot at and slightly wounded him. In 
explanation of this act he says: "In truth, murder and 
attentat (that is, political assassination) are to me oppo- 
site terms. To remove a tyrant is an act of liberation, 
the giving of life and opportunity to an oppressed peo- 
ple." (13) For this attempt on the life of Frick, Berk- 
man was condemned to a term of imprisonment of 
twenty-two years. Despite a few isolated outbreaks, it 
may be said, therefore, that the seeds of anarchism have 
never taken root in America, just as they have never 


taken root in Germany or in England. To-day there 
are no active American terrorists and only a handful of 
avowed anarchists. In the Latin countries, however, the 
.deeds of terrorism still played a tragic part in the his- 
tory of the next few years. 



While Johann Most was sowing the seeds of terror- 
ism in America, his comrades were actively at work in 
Europe. And, if the tactics of Most led eventually to 
petty thievery, somewhat the same degeneration was 
overtaking the Propaganda of the Deed in Europe. Up 
to 1886 robbery had not yet been adopted as a weapon of 
the Latin revolutionists. In America, in Austria, and in 
Russia, the doctrine had been preached and, to a certain 
extent, practiced, but I'aifaire Duval was responsible for 
its introduction into France. Unlike most of the pre- 
ceding demonstrations, the act of Duval was essentially 
an individual one. On October 5, 1886, a large house sit- 
uated at 31 rue de Monceau, Paris, and occupied by 
Mme. Herbelin and her daughter, Mme. Madeleine Le- 
maire, the well-known artist, was robbed and half 
burned. Some days later, Clement Duval and two ac- 
complices, Didier and Houchard, were arrested as the 
perpetrators of this act. At first the matter was treated 
by the newspapers as an ordinary robbery. The Cri du 
Peuple called it a simple burglary, followed by an in- 
cendiary attempt. But after some days, Duval an- 
nounced himself an anarchist and declared that his act 
was in harmony with his faith. 

On January 11 and 12, 1887, the case came before the 
court. The discussions were very heated. After M. Fer- 



nand Labori, then a very young advocate, who had been 
appointed to defend Duval, had made his plea, Duval 
became anxious to defend himself. He threatened, in 
leaving the prison, to blow up with dynamite the jury 
and the court, and heaped upon them most abusive lan- 
guage. The president ordered that he should be removed 
from the court. An enormous tumult then ensued in 
that part of the hall where the anarchists were massed. 
"Help! Help! Comrades! Long live Anarchy!" cried 
Duval. "Long live Anarchy!" answered his comrades. 
Thirty guards led Duval away, and the verdict was read 
in the presence of an armed force with fixed bayonets. 
He was condemned to death and his two accomplices 

Eight days afterward, on January 23, an indignation 
meeting against the condemnation of Duval was organ- 
ized by the anarchists, at which nearly 1,000 were pres- 
ent. Tennevin, Leboucher, and Louise Michel spoke in 
turn, glorifying Duval. The opposition was taken by a 
Blanquist, a Normandy citizen, who censured the act of 
Duval, because such acts, he said, throw discredit on the 
revolutionists and so retard the hour of the Social Revo- 

Duval's case was appealed to the highest court in 
France, but the appeal was rejected. The President of 
the Republic, however, commuted his sentence of capital 
punishment to enforced labor. Then followed a long 
period of discussions and violent controversies between 
the anarchists and the socalists over the whole affair. 
The anarchists claimed the right of theft on the grounds 
that it was the beginning of capitalist expropriation and 
that stolen wealth could aid in propaganda and action. 
The socialists, on the other hand, protested against this 
theory with extreme vigor. 



After Duval, there is little noteworthy in the terrorist 
movement for a period of four years, but with May i, 
1891, there began what is known as La Periode Tragique. 
Five notable figures, Decamps, Ravachol, Vaillant, 
Henry, and Caserio, within a period of three years, per- 
formed a series of terrorist acts that cannot be forgot- 
ten. Their utter desperation and abandon, the terrible 
solemnity of their lives, and the almost superhuman ef- 
forts they made to bring society to its knees mark the 
most tragic and heroic period in the history of anarchism. 
At Levallois-Perret a demonstration was organized by 
the anarchists for May i. They brought out their red 
and black flags, and, when the police attempted to inter- 
fere and to take away their banners, they opened fire 
upon them. Several fell injured, while others returned 
the fire. The fight continued for some time, until finally 
reinforcements arrived and the anarchists were subdued. 
Six of the police and three of the anarchists were se- 
verely injured, one of the latter being Decamps, who had 
received severe blows from a sword. The trial took 
place in August, and, when Decamps attempted to defend 
himself, the judge refused to hear him. Finally he and 
his friends were condemned to prison. 

The next year, 1892, the avenger of Decamps ap- 
peared. It was the famous Ravachol, who for a time 
kept all Paris in a state of terror. In the night of Febru- 
ary 14 there was a theft of dynamite from the establish- 
ment of Soisy-sous-EHoles. On March 11 an explosion 
shook the house on Boulevard Saint-Germain, in which 
lived M. Benoit, the judge who had presided in August, 
1891, at the trial of Decamps at Levallois. On March 15 
a bomb was discovered on the window of the Lobau bar- 
racks. On March 27 a bomb was exploded on the first 
floor of a house on rue de Clichy, occupied by M. Bulot, 


who had held the office of Public Minister at the trial in 
Levallois. It was only by chance, on the accusation of 
a boy by the name of Lherot, who was employed in a 
restaurant, that the police eventually captured Ravachol. 
He admitted having exploded the bombs in rue de Clichy 
and Boulevard Saint-Germain, "in order to avenge," he 
said, ""the abominable violences committed against our 
friends, Decamps, Leveille, and Dardare." (i) On 
April 26 a bomb was exploded in the restaurant where 
Lherot, the informer, worked, killing the proprietor and 
severely wounding one of the patrons. 

The public was thrown into a state of dreadful alarm. 
The next day, when Ravachol was brought to trial, some 
awful foreboding seemed to possess those who were pres- 
ent. All Paris was guarded. In spite of the efforts of 
the Public Minister, the jury spared Ravachol on the 
ground of extenuating circumstances. It is difficult to 
say whether it was fear or pity that determined the de- 
cision of the jurors. In any case, Ravachol was acquit- 
ted, only to be condemned to death a few months later 
for strangling the hermit of Chambles, and he was then 

"What shall one think of Ravachol?" says Prolo in 
Les Anarchistes. "He assassinated a mendicant, he broke 
into tombs in order to steal jewels, he manufactured coun- 
terfeit money, or, more exactly, substituting himself for 
the State, he cast five-franc pieces in silver, with the 
authentic standard, and put them in circulation. Lastly, 
he dynamited some property. He is of mystical 
origin. Profoundly religious in his early youth, he 
embraces with the same ardor, the same passion, and 
the same spirit of sacrifice the new political theory of 
equality. He throws himself deliberately outside the lim- 
its of the society which he abhors — Skills, robs, and 


avenges his brothers. And let anyone question him, he 
replies : 'A begging hermit, he is a parasite and should 
be suppressed. One ought not to bury jewels when chil- 
dren are hungry, when mothers weep, and when men suf- 
fer from misery. The State makes money. Is it of good 
alloy? I make it as the State makes it and of the same 
alloy! As to dynamite, it is the arm of the weak who 
avenge themselves or avenge others for the humiliating 
oppression of the strong and their unconscious accom- 
plices.' " (2) 

Although the anarchists accepted Duval and defended 
his acts, Ravachol was variously appreciated by them. 
Jean Grave, the French anarchist, and Merlino, the Ital- 
ian anarchist, both condemned Ravachol. "He is not one 
of us," declared the lattei", "and we repudiate him. His 
explosions lose their revolutionary character because of 
his personality, which is unworthy to serve the cause of 
humanity." (3) filisee Reclus, on the contrary, wrote of 
Ravachol in the Sempre Avanti as follows: "I admire 
his courage, his goodness of heart, his grandeur of soul, 
the generosity with which he has pardoned his enemies. 
I know few men who surpass him in generosity. I pass 
over the question of knowing up to what point it is al- 
ways desirable to push one's own right to the extreme 
and whether other considerations, actuated by a senti- 
ment of human solidarity, ought not to make it yield. 
But I am none the less of those who recognize in Rava- 
chol a hero of a rare grandeur of soul." (4) 

In the Entretiens poUtiques et litter aires, under the 
title, Eloge de Ravachol, ^3m\ Adam wrote : "Whatever 
may have been the invectives of the bourgeois press and 
the tenacity of the magistrates in dishonoring the act of 
the victim, they have not succeeded in persuading us of 
his error. After so many judicial debates, chronicles, 


and appeals to legal murder, Ravachol remains the 
propagandist of the grand idea of the ancient religions 
which extolled the quest of individual death for the good 
of the world, the abnegation of self, of one's life, and of 
one's fame for the exaltation of the poor and the humble. 
He is definitely the Renewer of the Essential Sacri- 
fice." (5) Museux, in I' Art social, said: "Ravachol has 
remained what he at first showed himself, a rebel. He 
has made the sacrifice of his life for an idea and to cause 
that idea to pass from a dream into reality. He has re- 
coiled before nothing, claiming the responsibility for his 
acts. He has been logical from one end to the other. 
He has given example of a fine character and indomita- 
ble energy, at the same time that he has summed up in 
himself the vague anger of the revolutionists." (6) 

Hardly had the people of Paris gotten over their ter- 
ror of the deeds of Ravachol when August Vaillant en- 
deavored to blow up with dynamite the French Chamber 
of Deputies. He was a socialist, almost unknown among 
the anarchists. He said afterward that political-financial 
scandals were arousing popular anger and that it was 
necessary to thrust the sword into the heart of public 
powers, since they could not be conquered peaceably. In 
order to carry out his plan, he went to Palais-Bourbon, 
and, when the session opened, Vaillant arose in the gal- 
lery to throw his bomb. A woman, perceiving the inten- 
tions of the thrower, grasped his arm, causing the bomb 
to strike a chandelier, with the result that only Abbe Le- 
mire and some spectators were injured. In the midst of 
commotion, with men stupefied with terror, the president 
of the Chamber, M. Charles Dupuy, called out the 
memorable words, "The session continues." 

Arraigned before the court, Vaillant was condemned 
to death. He said in explanation of his act, "I carried 


this bomb to those who are primarily responsible for so- 
cial misery." (7) "Gentlemen, in a few minutes you are 
to deal your blow, but in receiving your verdict I shall 
have at least the satisfaction of having wounded the ex- 
isting society, that cursed society in which one may see a 
single man spending, uselessly, enough to feed thousands 
of families; an infamous society which permits a few 
individuals to monopolize all the social wealth, while 
there are hundreds of thousands of unfortunates who 
have not even the bread that is not refused to dogs, and 
while entire families are committing suicide for want of 
the necessities of life. . . . (8) 

"I conclude, gentlemen, by saying that a society in 
which one sees such social inequalities as we see all about 
us, in which we see every day suicides caused by poverty, 
prostitution flaring at every street corner — a society 
whose principal monuments are barracks and prisons — 
such a society must be transformed as soon as possible, 
on pain of being eliminated, and that speedily, from the 
human race. Hail to him who labors, by no matter what 
means, for this transformation ! It is this idea that has 
guided me in my duel with authority, but as in this duel 
I have only wounded my adversary, it is now its turn to 
strike me." (9) 

The Abbe Lemire, Deputy from the North, the only 
member of the Chamber who had been slightly wounded 
by the explosion of the bomb, urged the pardon of the 
condemned man. The socialist Deputies likewise de- 
cided to appeal to the pardoning power of the President 
of the Republic and signed the following petition : "The 
undersigned, members of the Chamber of Deputies which 
was made the object of the criminal attempt of December 
9, have the honor to address to the President of the Re- 


public a last appeal in favor of the condemned." (lo) 
It has long been the custom in France not to punish an 
abortive crime with the death penalty, and it was gen- 
erally believed that Vaillant's sentence would be changed 
to life imprisonment. President Carnot, however, re- 
fused to extend any mercy, and Vaillant was guillotined. 
A few days after the execution of Vaillant, a bomb 
was thrown among some guests who were quietly assem- 
bled, listening to the music, in the cafe of the Hotel Ter- 
minus. Several persons were severely wounded. After 
a fierce struggle with the police, fimile Henry was ar- 
rested. In the trial it was learned that he had been re- 
sponsible for a number of other explosions that had taken 
place in the two or three years previous. He had at- 
tempted to avenge the miners who had been on strike at 
Carmaux by blowing up the manager of the company. 
He had deposited the bomb in the office of the company, 
where it was discovered by the porter. It was brought 
to the police, where it exploded, killing the secretary and 
three of his agents. Henry was a silent, lonely man, 
wholly unknown to the police. Mystical, sentimental, 
and brooding, he believed that the rich were individually 
responsible for misery and social wrong. "I had been 
told that life was easy and with abundant opportunity 
for all intellects and all energies," he declared at his trial, 
"but experience has shown me that only the cynics and 
the servile can make a place for themselves at the ban- 
quet. I had been told that social institutions were based 
on justice and equality, and I have seen about me only 
lies and deceit. Each day robbed me of an illusion. 
Everywhere I went I was witness of the same sorrows 
about us, of the same joys about others. Therefore I 
was not long in understanding that the words which I 
had been taught to reverence — honor, devotion, duty — 


were nothing but a veil concealing the most shameful 
baseness. . . . 

"For an instant I was attracted by socialism; but I 
was not long in withdrawing myself from that party. I 
had too much love for liberty, too much respect for indi- 
vidual initiative, too much dislike for incorporation to 
take a number in the registered army of the Fourth Es- 
tate. I brought into the struggle a profound hatred, 
every day revived by the repugnant spectacle of this so- 
ciety in which everything is sordid, ... in which 
everything hinders the expansion of human passions, the 
generous impulses of the heart, the free flight of thought. 
I have, however, wished, as far as I was able, to strike 
forcibly and justly. ... In this pitiless war which 
we have declared on the bourgeoisie we ask no pity. We 
give death and know how to suffer it. That is why I 
await your verdict with indifference." (11) 

In the case of Henry appeals were also made to Presi- 
dent Carnot for mercy, but they, too, were ignored, and 
Henry was guillotined a few days after Vaillant. A 
month or so later, June 25, President Carnot arrived at 
Lyons to open an exposition. That evening, while on his 
way to a theater, he was stabbed to death by the Italian 
anarchist, Caserio, on the handle of whose stiletto was 
engraved "Vaillant." 

This was the climax to the series of awful tragedies. 
It would be impossible to picture the utter consternation 
of the entire French nation. The characters that had 
figured in this terrible drama were not ordinary men. 
Their addresses before condemnation were so eloquent 
and impressive as to awaken lively emotions among the 
most thoughtful and brilliant men in France. They chal- 
lenged society. The judge refused Decamps a hearing, 
and Ravachol undertook individually to destroy the 


judge. Vaillant, deciding that the lawmakers were re- 
sponsible for social injustice, undertook with one bomb 
to destroy them. Henry, feeling that it was not the law- 
makers who were responsible, but the rich, careless, and 
sensual, who in their mastery over labor caused poverty, 
misery, and all suffering, sought with his bomb to de- 
stroy them. Utterly blind to the sentiments which moved 
these men, the President of the Republic allowed them 
to be guillotined, and Caserio, stirred to his very depths 
by what he considered to be the sublime acts of his com- 
rades, stabbed to death the President. 

It is hard to pass judgment on lives such as these. One 
stands bewildered and aghast before men capable of such 
deeds ; and, if they defy frivolous judgment, even to ex- 
plain them seems beyond the power of one who, in the 
presence of the same wrongs that so deeply moved them, 
can still remain inert. Yet is there any escape to the 
conclusion that all this was utter waste of life and de- 
votion? Far from awakening in their opponents the 
slightest thought of social wrong, these men, at the ex- 
pense of their lives, awakened only a spirit of revenge. 
"An eye for an eye" was now the sentiment of the mili- 
tants on both sides. All reason and sympathy disap- 
peared, and, instead, every brutal passion had play. Po- 
litically and socially, the reactionaries were put in the 
saddle. Every progressive in France was placed on the 
defensive. Anyone who hinted of social wrong was os- 
tracized. Csesarism ruled France, and, through les lois 
scelerates, every bush was beaten, every hiding-place un- 
covered, until every anarchist was driven out. The acts 
of Vaillant and Henry, like the acts of the Chicago anar- 
chists, not only failed utterly as propaganda, they even 
closed the ear and the heart of the world to everything 


and anything that was associated, or that could in any 
manner be connected, with anarchism. They served only 
one purpose — every malign influence and reactionary ele- 
ment took the acts of these misguided prodigies as a pre- 
text to fasten upon the people still more firmly both so- 
cial and political injustice. To no one were they so use- 
ful as to their enemy. 

For three years after this tragic period little note- 
worthy occurred in the history of terrorism. In Barce- 
lona, Spain, a bomb was thrown, and immediately three 
hundred men and women were arrested. They were all 
thrown into prison and subjected to torture. Some were 
killed, others driven insane, although after a time some 
were released upon appeals made by the press and by 
many notables of other countries of Europe. The Prime 
Minister of Spain, Canovas del Castillo, was chiefly re- 
sponsible for the torture of the victims. And in 1897 a 
young Italian, Angiolillo, went to Spain, and, at an inter- 
view which he sought with the Prime Minister, shot him. 
The same year an attempt was made on the life of the 
king of Greece, and in 1898 the Empress of Austria was 
assassinated in Switzerland by an Italian named Luc- 
cheni. The latter had gone there intending to kill the 
Duke of York, but, not finding him, decided to destroy 
the Empress. In 1900 King Humbert of Italy was as- 
sassinated by Gaetano Bresci. The latter had been work- 
ing as a weaver in America, where he had also edited 
an anarchist paper. He was deeply moved when the 
story reached him of some soldiers who had shot and 
killed some peasants, who through hunger had been 
driven to riot. He demanded money of his comrades in 
Patersoil, New Jersey, and, when he obtained it, hurried 
back to his native land, where, at Monzo, on the 29th of 
July he shot the King. The next year on September 5, 


President McKinley was shot in Buffalo by Leon Czol- 

No other striking figure appears among the anarchists 
until 1912. In the early months of that year all Paris 
was terrified by a series of crimes unexampled, it is said, 
in Western history. The deeds of Bonnot and his con- 
federates were so reckless, daring, and openly defiant, 
their escapes so miraculous, and the audacity of their as- 
saults so incredible, that the people of Paris were put in a 
state bordering on frenzy. Just before the previous 
Christmas, in broad daylight, on a busy street, the band 
fell upon a bank messenger. They shot him and took 
from his wallet $25,000. They then jumped in an auto- 
mobile and disappeared. A short time later a police 
agent called upon a chauffeur who was driving at excess 
speed to stop. It was in the very center of Paris, but 
instead of slackening his pace one of the occupants of 
the car drew a revolver, and, firing, killed the officer. A 
pursuit was organized, but the murderers escaped. 

Several other crimes were committed by the band in 
the next few days, but perhaps the most daring was that 
of March 25. In the forest of Senart, at eight o'clock 
in the morning, a band of five men stopped a chauffeur 
driving a powerful new motor car. They shot the chauf- 
feur and injured his companion. The five men then took 
the car, and proceeded at great speed to the famous rac- 
ing center of Chantilly. They went directly to a bank, 
descended from the car, and shot down the three men in 
charge of the bank. They then seized from the safe 
$10,000. A crowd which had gathered was kept back 
by one of the bandits with a rifle. The others came out, 
opened fire on the spectators, started the car at its utmost 
speed, and disappeared. 

Not long after, Monsieur Jouin, deputy chief of the 


Surete, and Chief Inspector Colmar were making a 
domiciliary search in a house near Paris. Instead of 
finding what they thought, a man crouching beneath a 
bed sprang upon them, and in the fight Jouin was killed 
and Colmar severely injured. Bonnot, although injured, 
escaped by almost miraculous means. 

At last, on April 29, the band, which had defied the 
police force of Paris for four months, was discovered 
concealed in a garage said to belong to a wealthy anar- 
chist. A body of police besieged the place, and aftef two 
police officers were killed a dynamite cartridge was ex- 
ploded that destroyed the garage. Bonnot was then cap- 
tured, fighting to the last. The police reported the find- 
ing of Bonnot's will, in which he says : "I am a cele- 
brated man. . . . Ought I to regret what I have 
done? Yes, perhaps; but I must live my life. So much 
the worse for idiotic and imbecile society. ... I am 
not more guilty," he continues, "than the sweaters who 
exploit poor devils." (12) His final thought, it is said, 
was for his accomplices, both of whom were women, one 
his mistress, the other the manager of the Journal An- 



Such is the tragic story of barely forty years of ter- 
rorism in Western Europe. It reads far more like lurid 
fiction than the cold facts of history. Yet these amazing 
irreconcilables actually lived — in our time — and fought, 
at the cost of their lives, the entire organization of so- 
ciety. Surely few other periods in history can show a 
series of characters so daring, so bitter, so bent on de- 
struction and annihU^tion. Bakounin, Nechayeff, Most, 
Lingg, Duval, Decamps, Ravachol, Henry, Vaillant, Ca- 
serio, and Luccheni — these bewildering rebels — indi- 
vidually waged their deadly conflict with the world. 
With the weakness of their one single life in revolt 
against society — ^protected as it is by countless thousands 
of police, millions of armed men, and all its machinery 
for defense — these amazing creatures fought their fight 
and wrote their page of protest in the world's history. 
Think of it as we will, this we know, that the world can- 
not utterly ignore men who lay down their lives for any 
cause. Men may write and agitate, they may scream 
never so shrilly about the wrongs of the world, but when 
they go forth to fight single-handed and to die for what 
they preach they have at least earned the right to de- 
mand of society an inquiry. 

What was it that drove these men to violence? Was 
it the teachings of Bakounin, of Nechayeflf, and of Most? 
Their writings have been read and pondered over by 



thousands of yearning and impressionable minds. They 
have been drink to the thirsty and food to the hungry. 
Yet one anarchist at least denies that the writings of 
these terrorists have moved men to violence. "My con- 
tention is," says Emma Goldman, "that they were im- 
pelled, not by the teachings of anarchism, but by the 
tremendous pressure of conditions, making life unbear- 
able to their sensitive natures." (i) Returning again to 
the same thought, she exclaims, "How utterly fallacious 
the stereotyped notion that the teachings of anarchism, 
or certain exponents of these teachings, are responsible 
for the acts of political violence." (2) To this indefa- 
tigable propagandist of anarchist doctrine, those who have 
been led into homicidal violence are "high strung, like a 
violin string." "They weep and moan for life, so relent- 
less, so cruel, so terribly inhuman. In a desperate mo- 
ment the string breaks." (3) 

Yet, if it be true that doctrines have naught to do with 
the spread of terrorism, why is it that among many mil- 
lion socialists there are almost no terrorists, while among 
a few thousand anarchists there are many terrorists? 
The pressure of adverse social conditions is felt as keenly 
by the socialists as by the anarchists. The one quite as 
much as the other is a rebel against social ills. The in- 
dictment made by the socialists against political and eco- 
nomic injustice is as far-reaching as that of the anar- 
chists. Why then does not the socialist movement pro- 
duce terrorists ? Is it not that the teachings of Marx and 
of all his disciples dwell upon the folly of violence, the 
futility of riots, the madness of assassination, while, on 
the other hand, the teachings of Bakounin, of Nechayeff, 
of Kropotkin, and of Most advocate destructive violence 
as a creative force? "Extirpate the wretches 1" cries 
Most. "Make robbers our allies!" says Nechayeff. 


"Propagate the gospel by a deed !" urges Kropotkin, and 
throughout Bakounin's writings there appears again and 
again the plea for "terrible, total, inexorable, and uni- 
versal destruction." Both socialists and anarchists preach 
their gospel to the weary and heavy-laden, to the de- 
spondent and the outraged, who may readily be led to 
commit acts of despair. They have, after all, little to 
lose, and their life, at present unbearable, can be made 
little worse by punishment. Yet millions of the miser- 
able have come into the socialist movement to hear the 
fiercest of indictments against capitalism, and it is but 
rare that one becomes a terrorist. What else than the 
teachings of anarchism and of socialism can explain this 
difference ? 

Unquestionably, socialism and anarchism attract dis- 
tinctly different types, who are in many ways alien to 
each other. Their mental processes differ. Their nerv- 
ous systems jar upon each other. Even physically they 
have been known to repel each other. Born of much the 
same conditions, they fought each other in the cradle. 
From the very beginning they have been irreconcilable, 
and with perfect frankness they have shown their con- 
tempt for each other. About the kindest criticism that 
the socialist makes of the anarchist is that he is a child, 
while the anarchist is convinced that the socialist is a 
Philistine and an inbred conservative who, should he 
ever get power, would immediately hang the anarchists.* 
They are traditional enemies, who seem utterly inca- 
pable of understanding each other. Intellectually, they 
fail to grasp the meaning of each other's philosophy. It 
is but rare that a socialist, no matter how conscientious a 
student, will confess he fully understands anarchism. On 

* Kropotkin, in "The Conquest of Bread," p. 73, suggests that 
in the Revolution the socialists will probably hang the anarchists. 


the other hand, no one understands the doctrines of 
socialism so little as the anarchist. It is possible, there- 
fore, that the same conditions which, drive the anarchist 
to terrorist acts lead the socialist to altogether different 
methods, but the reasonable and obvious conclusion 
would be that teachings and doctrines determine the 
methods that each employ. 

The anarchist is, as Emma Goldman says, "high 
strung." His ear is tuned to hear unintermittently the 
agonized cry. To follow the imagery of Shelley, he 
seems to be living in a "mind's hell," (4) wherein hate, 
scorn, pity, remorse, and despair seem to be tearing out 
the nerves by their bleeding roots. Bjornstjerne Bjorn- 
son, Frangois Coppee, fimile Zola, and many other great 
writers have sought to depict the psychology of the anar- 
chist, but I think no one has approached the poet Shel- 
ley, who had in himself the heart of the anarchist. He 
was a son-in-law and a disciple of William Godwin, one 
of the fathers of anarchism. "Prometheus Unbound," 
"The Revolt of Islam," and "The Mask of Anarchy," 
are expressions of the very soul of Godwin's philosophy. 
Shelley was "cradled into poetry by wrong," as a multi- 
tude of- other unhappy men are cradled into terrorism by 
wrong. He was "as a nerve o'er which do creep the else 
unfelt oppressions of this earth," and he "could moan for 
woes which others hear not." He, too, "could . . . 
with the poor and trampled sit and weep." (5) There 
is in nearly all anarchists this supersensitiveness, this 
hyperesthesia that leads to ecstasy, to hysteria, and to 
fanaticism. It is a neuropathy that has led certain scien- 
tists, like Lorabroso and Krafft-Ebbing, to suggest that 
some anarchist crimes can only be looked upon as a 
means to indirect suicide. They are outbursts that lead 
to a spectacular martyr-like ending to brains that "too 


much thought expands," to hearts overladen, and to 
nerves all unstrung. Life is a burden to them, though 
they lack the courage to commit suicide directly. Such 
is the view of these students of criminal pathology, and 
they cite a long list of political criminals who can only 
be explained as those who have sought indirectly self- 
destruction. It is a type of insanity that leads to acts 
which seem sublime to others in a state of like torture 
both of mind and of nerves. 

This explains no doubt the acts of some terrorists, and 
at the same time it condemns the present attitude of so- 
ciety toward the terrorist. Think of hanging the tor- 
mented soul who could say as he was taken to the gal- 
■ lows : "I went away from my native place because I 
was frequently moved to tears at seeing little girls of 
eight or ten years obliged to work fifteen hours a day for 
the paltry pay of twenty centimes. Young women of 
eighteen or twenty also work fifteen hours daily for a 
mockery of remuneration. . . . 

"I have observed that there are a great many people 
who are hungry, and many children who suffer, while 
bread and clothes abound in the towns. I saw many and 
large shops full of clothing and woolen stuffs, and I 
also saw warehouses full of wheat and Indian corn, suit- 
able for those who are in want." (6) When such a tor- 
tured spirit is driven to homicide, how is it possible for 
society to demand and take that life? Shall we admit 
that there is a duel between society and these souls de- 
ranged by the wrongs of society? "In this duel," said 
Vaillant, "I have only wounded my adversary, it is now 
his turn to strike me." (7) It is tragic enough that a 
poor and desperate soul, like Vaillant, should have felt 
himself in deadly combat with society, but how much 
more tragic it is for society to admit that fact, accept the 


challenge, and take that life ! "If you cannonade us, we 
shall dynamite you," said Louis Lingg. (8) And we an- 
swer, "If you dynamite us, we shall cannonade you." 
And in so far as this is our sole attitude toward these 
rebels, wherein are we superior? For Lingg to say that 
was at least heroic. For us so to answer is not even 
heroic. Our paid men see to it. It is done as a matter 
of course and forgotten. 

These men say that justice exists only for the power- 
ful, that the poor are robbed, and that "the lamp of their 
soul" is put out. They beg us to listen, and we will not. 
They ask us to read, and we will not. "It takes a loud 
voice to make the deaf hear," said Vaillant. They then 
give all they have to execute one dreadful deed of 
propaganda in order to awaken us. Must even this fail ? 
We can hang them, but can we forget them? After 
every deed of the anarchists the press, the police, and the 
pulpit carry on for weeks a frenzied discussion over 
their atrocities. The lives of these Propagandists of the 
Deed are then crushed out, and in a few months even 
their names are forgotten. There seems to be an innate 
dread among us to seek the causes that lie at the bottom 
of these distressing symptoms of our present social 
regime. We prefer, it seems, to become like that we con- 
template. We seek to terrorize them, as they seek to 
terrorize us. As the anarchist believes that oppression 
may be ended by the murder of the oppressor, so society 
cherishes the thought that anarchism may be ended by 
the murder of the anarchist. Are not our methods in 
truth the same, and can any man doubt that both are 
equally futile and senseless? Both the anarchy of the 
powerful and the anarchy of the weak are stupid and 
abortive, in that they lead to results diametrically op- 


I the ends sought. Tennyson was never nearer 
-n-gresTsocial truth than when he wrote : 

"He that roars for liberty- 
Faster binds a tyrant's power; 
And the tyrant's cruel glee 
Forces on the freer hour." (9) 

No one perhaps is better qualified than Lombroso to 
speak on the present punitive methods 'of society as a 
direct cause of terrorism. "Punishment," he says, "far 
from being a palliative to the fanaticism and the nervous 
diseases of others, exalts them, on the contrary, by ex- 
citing their altrustic aberration and their thirst for mar- 
tyrdom. In order to heal these anarchist wounds there 
is, according to some statesmen, nothing but hanging on 
the gallows and prison. For my part, I consider it just 
indeed to take energetic measures against the an- 
archists. However, it is not necessary to go so far as 
to take measures which are merely the result of mo- 
mentary reactions, measures which thus become as im- 
pulsive as the causes which have produced them and in 
their turn a source of new violence. 

"For example, I am not an unconditional adversary of 
capital punishment, at least when it is a question of the 
criminal born, whose existence is a constant danger to 
worthy people. Consequently, I should not have hesi- 
tated to condemn Pini * and Ravachol. On the other 
hand, I believe that capital punishment or severe or 
merely ignominious penalties are not suited to the crimes 
and the offenses of the anarchists in general. First, 

* Pini declared that he had committed robberies amounting to 
over three hundred thousand francs from the bourgeoisie in 
order to avenge the oppressed. Cf. Lombroso, "Les Anar- 
chistes," p. 52. 


many of them are mentally deranged, and for these it is 
the asylum, and not death or the gallows, that is fitting. 
It is necessary also to take account, in the case of some 
of these criminals, of their noble altruism which renders 
them worthy of certain regard. Many of these people 
are souls that have gone astray and are hysterical, like 
Vaillant and Henry, who, had they been engaged in some 
other cause, far from being a danger, would have been 
able to be of use. in this society which they wished to 
destroy. . . . 

"As to indirect suicides, is it not to encourage them 
and to make them attain the end that they desire when 
we inflict on all those so disposed a spectacular death? 
. . . For many criminals by passion, unbalanced by 
an inadequate education, and whose feeling is aroused by 
either their own misery or at the sight of the misery of 
others, we would no more award the death penalty if the 
motive has been exclusively political, because they are 
much less dangerous than the criminal born. On the 
other hand, commitment to the asylum of the epileptic 
and the hysteric would be a practical measure, especially 
in France, where ridicule kills them. Martyrs are ven- 
erated and fools are derided." (10) 

Of course, Lombroso is endeavoring to prescribe a 
method of treatment for the terrorist that will not breed 
more terrorists. He sees in the present punitive methods 
an active cause of violence. However, it is perhaps im- 
possible to hope that society will adopt any different atti- 
tude than that which it has taken in the past toward these 
unbalanced souls. In fact, it seems that a savage lex 
talionis is wholly satisfying to the feudists on both sides. 
Neither the one nor the other seeks to understand the 
forces driving them both. They are bent on destroying 
each other, and they will probably continue in that 


struggle for a long time to come. However, if we learn 
little from those actually engaged in the conflict, there 
are those outside who have labored earnestly to under- 
stand and explain the causes of terrorism. Ethics, re- 
ligion, psychology, criminal pathology, sociology, eco- 
nomics, jurisprudence — all contribute to the explanation. 
And, while it is not possible to go into the entire matter 
as exhaustively as one could wish, there are several 
points which seem to make clear the cause of this almost 
individual struggle between the anarchists above and the 
anarchists below. 

Some of those who have written of the causes of ter- 
rorism have a partisan bias. There are those among the 
Catholic clergy, for instance, who have sought to place 
the entire onus on the doctrines of modern socialism. 
This has, in turn, led August Bebel to point out that the 
teachings of certain famous men in the Church have 
condoned assassination. He reminds us of Mariana, the 
Jesuit, who taught under what circumstances each indi- 
vidual has a right to take the life of a tyrant. His work, 
De Rege et Rege Constitutione, was famous in its time. 
Lombroso tells us that "the Jesuits . . . who even 
to-day sustain the divine right of kings, when the kings 
themselves believe in it no longer, revolted at one time 
against the princes who were not willing to follow them 
in their misoneique and retirograde fanaticism and hurled 
themselves into regicide. Thus three Jesuits were exe- 
cuted in England in 1551 for complicity in a conspiracy 
against the life of Elizabeth, and two others in 1605 in 
connection with the powder plot. In France, Pere Guig- 
nard was beheaded for high treason against Henry IV. 
(1595). Some Jesuits were beheaded in Holland for the 
conspiracies against Maurice de Nassau (1598); and, 
later in Portugal, after the attempt to assassinate King 


Joseph (1757), three of the Jesuits were implicated; and 
in Spain (1766) still others were condemned for their 
conspiracy against Ferdinand IV. 

"During the same period two Jesuits were hanged in 
Paris as accomplices in the attempt against Louis XV. 
When they did not take an active part in political 
crimes, they exercised indirectly their influence by means 
of a whole series of works approving regicide or tyranni- 
cide, as they were pleased to distinguish it in their books. 
Mariana, in his book, De Rege et Rege Constitutione, 
praises Clement and apologizes for regicide ; and that, in 
spite of the fact that the Council of Constance had con- 
demned the maxim according to which it was permitted 
to kill a tyrant"* (11) 

That the views of Mariana were very similar to those 
of the terrorists will be seen by the following quotation 
from his famous book: "It is a question," he writes, in 
discussing the best means of killing a king, "whether it is 
more expedient to use poison or the dagger. The use of 
poison in the food has a great advantage in that it pro- 
duces its effect without exposing the life of the one who 
has recourse to this method. But such a death would be 
a suicide, and one is not permitted to become an accom- 
plice to a suicide. Happily, there is another method 
available, that of poisoning the clothing, the chairs, the 

*"The work of Mariana was afterward approved by Sola 
(Tractus de legibus), by Gretzer (Opera omnia), by Be- 
cano (^Opuscula theologica Summa Theologicte scholastics). 

"Pere Emanuel {Aphorismi confessariorum) , Gregoire de 
Valence {Comment. Theolog.), Keller (Tyrannicidium) , and 
Suarez (Defentio fidei cathol.) hold similar ideas, while Azor 
(Institut. moral.), Lorin {Comm. in librum psalmorum), Co- 
mitolo (Responsa morala), etc., recognized the right of every 
individual to kill the prince for his own defense."— L« Anar- 
chistes, p. 207. 


bed. This is the method that it is necessary to put into 
execution in imitation of the Mauritanian kings, who, 
under the pretext of honoring their rivals with gifts, 
sent them clothes that had been sprinkled with an in- 
visible substance, with which contact alone has a fatal 
effect." (12) 

It has also been pointed out that, although Catholics 
have rareljrhEeirgi^fQyfevoluttotiaSr poEtical an a~en3= 
iiomic'ffieorres'"tJie Mafiaand tjje, ..Camorra in Italv . the 
Fenians in Ireland, and the Molly Maguires in A merica 
were all organizations of Catholi cs which pursued th e 
same terrorist tactics that we find i n the ana rchist move- 
ment. These are~un^esfiona51e facts7yet they~explSn 
nothing. ' Certainly Zenker is 'j Wified in saym^T^I The 
d eeds o f people like Jacques Clement, RavaillaCjjCorda^, 
Sand, anHXasertorarerall'of the ■same kifiaTHardly. any- 
one will be found to-day to maintain tha t Sand's _a ction 
followed"" from 'tKF"views _^of_ the Burschenschaft, or 
Clement's froni Catholicism, even wHen "we" learn that 
San3' was regard'eS" by his 'f eHows" "a?" a saint, as was 
Charlotte Corday and Clement, or even when learned 
Jesuits like Sa, Mariana, and others, cum licentia et 
approbatione superiorum, in connection with Clement's 
outrage, discussed the question of regicide in a manner 
not unworthy of Nechayeff or Most." (13) It therefore 
ill becomes the Catholic clergy to attack socialism on the 
ground of regicide, as not one socialist book or one so- 
cialist leader has ever yet been known to advocate even 
tyrannicide. On the other hand, while terrorism has 
been extraordinarily prevalent in Catholic countries, such 
as France, Italy, and Spain, no socialist will seriously 
seek to lay the blame on the Catholic Church. The truth 
is that the forces which produce terrorism affect the 
Catholic mind as they affect the Protestant mind. In 


every struggle for liberty and justice against religious, 
political, or industrial oppression, some men are moved 
to take desperate measures regardless of whether they 
are Catholics, Protestants, or pagans. 

Still other seekers after the causes of terrorism have 
pointed out that the ethics of our time appear to justify 
the terrorist and his tactics. History glorifies the deeds 
of numberless heroes who have destroyed tyrants. The 
story of William Tell is in every primer, and every 
schoolboy is thrilled with the tale of the hero who shot 
from ambush Gessler, the tyrant.* From the Old Testa- 
ment down to even recent history, we find story after 
story which make immortal patriots of men who have 
committed assassination in the belief that they were serv- 
ing their country. And can anyone doubt that Booth 
when he shot President Lincoln f or that Czolgosz when 
he murdered President McKinley was actuated by any 
other motive than the belief that he was serving a cause ? 
It was the idea of removing an industrial tyrant that 
actuated young Alexander Berkman when he shot Henry 
C. Frick, of the Carnegie Company. These latter acts 
are not recorded in history as heroic, simply and solely 

* Bakounin, when endeavoring to save NechayefF from being 
arrested by the Swiss authorities and sent back to Russia, de- 
fends him on precisely these grounds, claiming that Nechayeff 
had taken the fable of William Tell seriously. Cf. (Ewures, 
Vol. II, p. 29. 

t Booth wrote, a day or so after killing Lincoln : "After 
being hunted like a dog through swamps and woods, and last 
night being chased by gunboats till I was forced to return, wet, 
cold, and starving, with every man's hand against me, I am 
here in despair. And why? For doing what Brutus was hon- 
ored for — what made William Tell a hero; and yet I, for strik- 
ing down an even greater tyrant than they ever knew, am looked 
upon as a common cutthroat." Cf. "The Death of Lincoln," 
Laughlin, p. I3S- 


because the popular view was not in sympathy with those 
acts. Yet had they been committed at another time, un- 
der different conditions, the story of these men might 
have been told for centuries to admiring groups of chil- 

In Carlyle's "Hero Worship" and in his philosophy of 
history, the progress of the world is summarized under 
the stories of great men. Certain individuals are re- 
sponsible for social wrongs, while other individuals are 
responsible for the great revolutions that have righted 
those wrongs. In the building up, as well as in the de- 
struction of empires, the individual plays stupendous 
roles. This egocentric interpretation of history has not 
only been the dominant one in explaining the great po- 
litical changes of the past, it is now the reasoning of the 
common mind, of the yellow press, of the demagogue, in 
dealing with the causes of the evils of the present day. 
The Republican Party declared that President McKin- 
ley was responsible for prosperity ; by equally sound rea- 
soning Czolgosz may have argued that he was responsi- 
ble for social misery. According to this theory, Rocke- 
feller is the giant mind that invented the trusts ; political 
bosses such as Croker and Murphy are the infamous 
creatures who fasten upon a helpless populace of mil- 
lions of souls a Tammany Hall; Bismarck created mod- 
ern Germany; Lloyd George created social reform in 
England; while Tom Mann in England and Samuel 
Gompers in America are responsible for strikes; and 
Keir Hardie and Eugene Debs responsible for socialism. 
The individual who with great force of ability becomes 
the foremost figure in social, political, or industrial de- 
velopment is immediately assailed or glorified. He be- 
comes the personification of an evil thing that must be 
destroyed or of a good thing that must be protected. It 


is a result of such reasoning that men ignorant of under- 
lying social, political, or industrial forces seek to obstruct 
the processes of evolution by removing the individual. 
On this ground the anarchists have been led to remove 
hundreds of police officials, capitalists, royalties, and 
others. They have been poisoned, shot, and dynamited, 
in the belief that their removal would benefit humanity. 
Yet nothing would seem to be quite so obvious as the fact 
that their removal has hardly caused a ripple in the 
swiftly moving current of evolution. Others, often more 
forceful and capable, have immediately stepped into their 
places, and the course of events has remained unchanged. 
Speaking on this subject, August Bebel refers to the 
hero-worship of Bismarck in Germany: "There is no 
other person whom the social democracy had so much 
reason to hate as him, and the social democracy was not 
more hated by anybody than by just that Bismarck. Our 
love and our hatred were, as you see, mutual. But one 
would search in vain the entire social democratic press 
and literature for an expression of the thought that it 
would be a lucky thing if that man were removed. 
. . . But how often did the capitalist press express 
the idea that, were it not for Bismarck, we would not, to 
this day, have a united Germany? There cannot be a 
more mistaken idea than this. The unity of Germany 
would have come without Bismarck. The idea of unity 
and liberty was in the sixties so powerful among all the 
German people that it would have been realized, with or 
without the assistance of the HohenzoUerns. The unity 
of Germany was not only a political but an economic 
necessity, primarily in the interests of the capitalist class 
and its development. The idea of unity would have ulti- 
mately broken through with elementary force. At this 
juncture Bismarck made use of the tendency, in his own 


fashion, in the interest of the Hohenzollern dynasty, and 
at the same time in the interest of the capitalist class and 
of the Junkers, the landed nobihty. The oflEspring of this 
compromise is the Constitution of the German Empire, 
the provisions of which strive to reconcile the interests 
of these three factors. Finally, even a man like Bis- 
marck had to leave his post. 'What a misfortune for 
Germany!' cried the press devoted to him. Well, what 
has happened to Germany since then? Even Bismarck 
himself could not have ruled it much differently than it 
has been ruled since his days." ( 14) 

This egoistic conception of history is carried to its 
most violent extreme by the anarchists. The principles 
of Nechayeff are a series of prescriptions by which fear- 
less and reckless individuals may destroy other indi- 
viduals. Ravachol, Vaillant, and Henry seemed ob- 
sessed with the idea that upon their individual acts rested 
the burden of deliverance. Bonnot's last words were, 
"I am a celebrated man." From the gallows in Chicago 
Fischer declared, "This is the happiest moment of my 
life." (15) "Call your hangman!" exclaimed August 
Spies. "Truth crucified in Socrates, in Christ, in Gior- 
dano Bruno, in Huss, in Galileo, still lives — they and 
others whose name is legion have preceded us on this 
path. We are ready to follow!" (16) Fieldensaid: "I 
have loved my fellowmen as I have loved myself. I 
have hated trickery, dishonesty, and injustice. The nine- 
teenth century commits the crime of killing its best 
friend." (17) It is singularly impressive, in reading the 
literature of anarchism, to weigh the last words of men 
who felt upon their souls the individual responsibility of 
saving humanity. They have uttered memorable words 
because of their inherent sincerity, their devout belief in 


the individual, in his power for evil, and in his power to 
remove that evil. 

In many anarchists, however, this deification of the in- 
dividual induces a morbid and diseased egotism which 
drives them to the most amazing excesses ; among others, 
the yearning to commit some memorable act of revolt in 
order to be remembered. In fact, the ego in its worst, 
as well as in its best aspect, dominates the thought and 
the literature of anarchism. Max Stirner, considered 
by some the founder of philosophical anarchism, calls his 
book "The Ego and His Own." "Whether what I think 
and do is Christian," he writes, "what do I care? 
Whether it is human, liberal, humane, whether unhuman, 
illiberal, inhuman, what do I ask about that? If only it 
accomplishes what I want, if only I satisfy myself in it, 
then overlay it with predicates as you will; it is all alike 
to me." (18) "Consequently my relation to the world 
is this : I no longer' do anything for it 'for God's sake,' 
I do nothing 'for man's sake,' but what I do I do 'for my 
sake.' " (19) "Where the world comes in my way — and 
it comes in my way everywhere — I consume it to quiet 
the hunger of my egoism. For me you are nothing but 
— ^my food, even as I, too, am fed upon and turned to 
use by you." (20) 

Here society is conceived of as merely a collection of 
egos. The world is a history of gods and of devils. All 
the evils of the time are embodied in individual tyrants. 
Some of these individuals control the social forces, others 
the political, still others the industrial forces. As indi- 
viduals, they overpower and enslave their individual ene- 
mies. Remove a man and you destroy the source of 
tyranny. A judge commits a man to death, and the 
judge is dynamited. A Prime Minister sends the army 
to shoot down striking workmen and the Prime Minister 


is shot. A law is passed violating the rights of free 
speech, and, following that, an Emperor is shot. The 
rich exploit the poor, and a fanatic throws a bomb in the 
first cafe he passes to revenge the poor. Wicked and 
unjust laws are made, and Vaillant goes in person to the 
Chamber of Deputies to throw his bomb. The police of 
Chicago murder some hungry strikers, and an avenger 
goes to the Haymarket to murder the police. In all 
these acts we find a point of view in harmony with the 
dominant one of our day. It is the one taught in our 
schools, in our pulpits, on our political platforms, and 
in our press. It is the view, carried to an extreme, of 
that man or group of men who believes that the ideas of 
individuals determine social evolution. Nothing could 
be more logical to the revolutionist who holds this view 
than to seek to remove those individuals who are re- 
sponsible for the existing order of society. As a rule, 
the socialist stands almost alone in combating this ideo- 
logical interpretation of history and of social evolution. 
There is something in the nature of poetic irony in 
the fact that the anarchist should take the very ethics of 
capitalism and reduce them to an absurdity. It is some- 
thing in the nature of a satire, sordid and terrible, which 
the realism of things has here written. The very 
most cherished ethical ideals of our society are used by 
the bitterest enemies of that society to arouse the 
wronged to individual acts of revenge. Quite a number 
of notable anarchists have been the product of misery 
and oppression. Their souls were warped, and their 
minds distorted in childhood by hunger and brutality. 
They were wronged terribly by the world, and anarchism 
came to them as a welcome spirit, breathing revenge. It 
taught that the world was wrong, that injustice rode 
over it like a nightmare, that misery flourished in the 


midst of abundance, that multitudes labored with bent 
backs to produce luxuries for the few. Their eyes were 
opened to the wrong of hunger, poverty, unemployment, 
of woman and child labor, and of all the miseries that 
press heavily upon human souls. And in their revolt 
they saw kings, judges, police officials, legislators, cap- 
tains of industry, who were said to be directly responsi- 
ble for these social ills. It was not society or a system 
or even a class that was to blame; it was McKinley, or 
Carnot, or Frick. And those whom some worshiped as 
heroes, these men loathed as tyrants. 

The powerful have thought to deprive the poor of 
souls. They have liked to think that they would forever 
bear their cross in peace. Yet when anarchism comes 
and touches the souls of the poor it finds not dead blocks 
of wood or mere senseless cogs in an industrial ma- 
chine; it finds the living, who can pray and weep, love 
and hate. No matter how seared their souls become, 
there is yet a possibility that their whole beings may re- 
volt under wrong. When the anarchist deifies even the 
veriest wreck of society — this individual, "this god, 
though in the germ" — when he inflames it with dignity 
and with pride, when he fills its whole being with a 
thirst for awful and incredible vengeance, you have Du- 
val, Lingg, Ravachol, Luccheni, and Bonnot. Add to 
their desire for revenge the philosophy of anarchism and 
of our schoolbooks, that individuals are the makers of 
history, and the result is terrorism. 

Other students of terrorism have noted the preva- 
lence of violence in those countries and times where the 
courts are corrupt, where the law is brutal and oppres- 
sive, or where men are convinced that no available ma- 
chinery exists to execute the ends of justice. This lat- 
ter is the explanation given for the numerous l)mchings 


in America and also for the practices of "popular jus- 
tice" that used to be a common feature of frontier life. 
In the absence of a properly constituted legal machinery 
groups of men undertake to shoot, hang, or burn those 
whom they consider dangerous to the public weal. In 
Russia it was inevitable that a terrorist movement should 
arise. The courts were corrupt, the bureaucracy oppres- 
sive. Furthermore, no form of freedom existed. Men 
could neither speak nor write their views. They could 
not assemble, and until recently they did not possess the 
slightest voice in the affairs of government. Borne 
down by a most hideous oppression, the terrorist was the 
natural product. The same conditions have existed to 
an extent in Italy, and probably no other country has 
produced so many violent anarchists. Caserio, Luccheni, 
Bresci, and Angiolillo have been mentioned, but there 
are others, such as Santoro, Mantica, Benedicti, although 
these latter are accused of being police agents. In Italy 
the people have for centuries individually undertaken to 
execute their conception of equity. Official justice was 
too costly to be available to the poor, and the courts 
were too corrupt to render them justice. For centuries, 
therefore, men have been considered justified in murder- 
ing their personal enemies. Among all classes it has long 
been customary to deal individually with those who have 
committed certain crimes. The horrible legal condi- 
tions existing in both Spain and Italy have developed 
among these peoples the idea of "self-help." They have 
taken law into their own hands, and, according to their 
lights and passions, have meted out their rude justice. 
Assassination has been defended in these countries, as 
lynching has been defended recently, as some will re- 
member, by a most eminent American anarchist, the Gov- 
ernor of South Carolina. 



Lombroso says in his exhaustive study of the causes 
of violence, Les.Anarchistes: "History is rich in exam- 
ples of the complicity of criminality and politics, and 
where one sees in turn political passion react on criminal 
instinct and criminal instinct on political passion. While 
Pompey has on his side all honest people — Cato, Brutus, 
Cicero ; Caesar, more popular than he, has as his follow- 
ers only degenerates — Antony, a libertine and drunkard ; 
Curio, a bankrupt; Clelius, a madman; Dolabella, who 
made his wife die of grief and who wanted to annul 
all debts; and, above all, Catiline and Clodius. In 
Greece the Clefts, who are brigands in time of peace, 
have valiantly championed the independence of their 
country. In Italy, in i860, the Papacy and the Bour- 
bons hired brigands to oppose the national party and its 
troops; the Mafia of Sicily rose up with Garibaldi; and 
the Camorra of Naples cooperated with the liberals. And 
this shameful alliance with the Camorra of Naples is not 
yet dissolved ; the last parliamentary struggles relative to 
the acts of the government of Naples have given us a 
sad echo of it — which, alas, proves that it still lasts with- 
out hope of change for the future. It is especially at the 
initial stages of revolutions that these sorts of people 
abound. It is then, indeed, that the abnormal and un- 
healthy spirits predominate over the faltering and the 
weak and drag them on to excesses by an actual epi- 
demic of imitation." (21) 

Marx and Engels saw very clearly the part that the 
criminal elements would play in any uprising, and as 
early as 1847 they wrote in the Communist Manifesto: 
"The 'dangerous class,' the social scum, that passively 
rotting mass thrown off by the lowest layers of old so- 
ciety, may, here and there, be swept into the movement 
by a proletarian revolution; its conditions of life, how- 


ever, prepare it far more for the part of a bribed tool of 
reactionary intrigue." (22) The truth of this statement 
has been amply illustrated in the numerous outbreaks 
that have occurred since it was written. The use by the 
Bakouninists in Spain of the criminal elements there, 
the repeated exploits of the police agents in discrediting 
every uprising by encouraging the criminal elements to 
outrageous acts, and the terrible barbarities of the crim- 
inal classes at the time of the Paris Commune are all ex- 
amples of how useful to reaction the rotting layers of 
old society may become. Even when they do not serve 
as a bribed tool of the reactionary elements, their atroci- 
ties, both cruel and criminal, repel the self-respecting and 
conscientious elements. They discredit the real revolu- 
tionists, who must bear the stigma that attaches to the 
inhuman acts of the "dangerous class." 

That the European governments have used the terror- 
ists in exactly this manner in order to discredit popular 
movements, is not, I think, open to any question. The 
money of the anarchists' bitterest enemy has helped to 
make anarchy so well known. The politics of Machia- 
velH is the politics of nearly every old established Euro- 
pean government. It is the politics of families who have 
been trained in the profession of rulership. And this 
mastership, as William Morris has said, has many shifts. 
And one that has been most useful to them is that of 
subsidizing those persons or elements who by their acts 
promote reaction. In Russia it is an old custom to fo- 
ment and provoke minor insurrections. Police agents 
enter a discontented district and do all possible to irri- 
tate the troublesome elements and to force them "to 
come into the street." In this manner the agitators and 
leaders are brought to the front, where at one stroke 
they may all be shot. Furthermore, the police agents 


themselves commit or provoke such atrocious crimes that 
the people are terrified and welcome the strong arm of 
the Government. Literally scores of instances might be 
given where, by well-planned work of this sort, the active 
leaders are cut down, the sources of agitation destroyed, 
and through the robberies, murders,, and dynamite out- 
rages of police agents the people are so terrified that they 
welcome the intervention of even tyranny itself. 

An immense sensation throughout Europe was created 
by an address by Jules Guesde in the French Chamber 
of Deputies, the 19th of July, 1894. The deeds of Rava- 
chol, Vaillant, and Henry were still the talk of Europe, 
and, three weeks before, the President of the Republic 
had been stabbed to death by Caserio. It was in , that 
critical period, amidst commotions, interruptions, pro- 
tests, and exclamations of amazement, that Guesde 
brought out his evidence that the chief of police of Paris 
had paid regular subsidies to promote and extend both 
the preaching and the practice of violent anarchism. He 
introduced, in support of his remarks, portions from the 
Memoirs of M. Andrieux, our old friend of Lyons and 
later the head of the Paris police. "The anarchists," says 
Andrieux, "wished to have a newspaper to spread their 
doctrines. If I fought their Propaganda of the Deed, 
I at least favored the spread of their doctrines by means 
of the press, and I have no reasons for depriving my- 
self longer of their gratitude.* The companions were 
looking for some one to advance funds, but infamous 

* Kropotkin tells of the effort made by the agents of Andrieux 
to persuade him and Elisee Reclus to collaborate in the publica- 
tion of this so-called anarchist paper. He also says it was a 
paper of "unheard-of violence; burning, assassination, dynamite 
bombs— there was nothing but that in it."— "Memoirs of a Rev- 
olutionist," pp. 478-480. 


capital was in no hurry to reply to their appeal. I shook 
it up and succeeded in persuading it that it was for its 
own interest to aid in the publication of an anarchist 
newspaper. . . . 

"But do not think that I boldly offered to the an- 
archists the encouragement of the Prefect of Police. 
. . ., I sent a well-dressed bourgeois to one of the 
most active and intelligent of them. He explained that, 
having acquired a fortune in the drug business, he de- 
sired to devote a part of his income to help their propa- 
ganda. This bourgeois, anxious to be devoured, awak- 
ened no suspicion among the companions. Through his 
hands, I deposited the caution money in the coffers of 
the State, and the paper, la Revolution Sociale, made its 
appearance. . . . Every day, about the table of the 
editors, the authorized representatives of the party of ac- 
tion assembled ; they looked over the international corre- 
spondence; they deliberated on the measures to be taken 
to end 'the exploitation of man by man' ; they imparted to 
each other the recipes which science puts at the disposal 
of revolution. I was always represented in the councils, 
and I gave my advice in case of need. . . . The 
members had decided in the beginning that the Palais- 
Bourbon must be blown up. They deliberated on the 
question as to whether it would not be more expedient 
to commence with some more accessible monument. The 
Bank of France, the palais de I'&lysee, the house of the 
prefect of police, the office of the Minister of the In- 
terior were all discussed, then abandoned, by reason of 
the too careful surveillance of which they were the ob- 
ject." (23) Toward the end of his address, Guesde 
turned to the reactionaries, and said : "I have shown you 
that everywhere, from the beginning of the anarchist 
epidemic in France, you find either the hand or the 


money of one of your prefects of police. . . . That 
is how you have fought in the past this anarchistic danger 
of which you make use to-day to commit, what shall I 
say ? . . . real crimes, not only against socialism, but 
against the Republic itself." (24) 

For the last forty years police agents have swarmed 
into the socialist, the anarchist, and the trade-union 
movements for the purpose of provoking violence. The 
conditions grew so bad in Russia that every revolution- 
ist suspected his comrade. Many loyal revolutionists 
were murdered in the belief that they were spies. In 
the belief that they were comrades, the faithful intrusted 
their innermost secrets to the agents of the police. Every 
plan they made was known. Every undertaking proved 
abortive, because the police knew everything in advance 
and frequently had in charge of every plot their own 
men. Criminals were turned into the movement under 
the surveillance of the police.* All through the days of 
the International it was a common occurrence to expose 
police spies, and in every national party agents of the po- 
lice have been discovered and driven out. It has become 
almost a rule, in certain sections of the socialist and labor 
movements, that the man who advocates violence must 
be watched, and there are numerous instances where such 
men have been proved to be paid agents of the police. 
Joseph Peukert was for many years one of the foremost 
leaders of the anarchists. He was in Vienna with Stell- 
macher and Kammerer, and devoted much of his time to 
translating into German the works of foreign anarchists. 

*In "The Terror in Russia" Kropotkin tells of bands of 
criminals who, under pretense of being revolutionists and want- 
ing money for revolutionary purposes, forced wealthy people to 
contribute under menace of death. The headquarters of the 
bands were at the office of the secret police. 


It was only discovered toward the end of his life that 
during all this time he was in the employ of the Aus- 
trian police. 

These and similar startling facts were brought out by 
August Bebel in an address delivered in Berlin, Novem- 
ber 2, 1898. Luccheni had just murdered the Empress 
of Austria, and the German reactionaries attempted, of 
course, to connect him with the socialists. Bebel created 
utter consternation in their camp when, as a part of his 
address, he showed the active participation of high offi- 
cials in crimes of the anarchists. "And how often," said 
Bebel, "police agents have helped along in the attempted 
or executed assassinations of the last decades. When 
Bismarck was Federal Ambassador at Frankfort-on-the- 
Main he wrote to his wife: 'For lack of material the 
police agents lie and exaggerate in a most inexcusable 
manner.' These agents are engaged to discover contem- 
plated assassinations. Under these circumstances, the 
bad fellows among them . . . come easily to the 
idea : 'If other people don't commit assassinations, then 
we ourselves must help the thing along.' For, if they 
cannot report that there is something doing, they will be 
considered superfluous, and, of course, they don't want 
that to happen. So they 'help the thing along' by 'cor- 
recting luck,' as the French proverb puts it. Or they 
play politics on their own score. 

"To demonstrate this I need only to remind you of 
the 'reminiscences' of Andrieux, the former Chief of Po- 
lice of Paris, in which he brags with the greatest cynic- 
ism of how he, by aid of police funds, subsidized ex- 
treme Anarchist papers and organized Anarchist assassi- 
nations, just to give a thorough scare to rich citizens. 
And then there is that notorious, Police Inspector Mel- 
ville, of London, who also operated on these lines. That 


was revealed by the investigation of the so-called Wal- 
sall attempt at assassination. Among the assassinations 
committed by the Fenians there were also some that were 
the work of the police, as was shown at the Parnell trial. 
Everybody remembers how much of such activity was 
displayed in Belgium during the eighties by that prince 
of scoundrels, Pourbaix. Even the Minister Bernaard 
himself was compelled to admit before the Parliament 
that Pourbaix was paid to arrange assassinations in order 
to justify violent persecutions of the Social Democracy. 
Likewise was Baron von Ungern-Sternberg, nicknamed 
the 'bomb-baron,' unmasked as a police agent at the trial 
of the Luttich Anarchists. 

"And then — our own good friends at the time of the 
[anti-] Socialist law. About them I myself could tell 
you some interesting stories, for I was among those who 
helped to unmask them. There is Schroeder-Brennwald, 
of Zurich, the chap who was receiving from Molken- 
markt, through police counsellor Krueger, a monthly sal- 
ary of at first 200 and then 250 marks. At every meet- 
ing in Zurich this Schroeder was stirring up people and 
putting them up to commit acts of violence. But to 
guard against expulsion from Switzerland by the authori- 
ties of that country, he first acquired citizenship in 
Switzerland, presumably by means of funds furnished by 
the police of Prussia. During the summer of 1883 
Schroeder and the police-Anarchist Kaufman called and 
held in Zurich a conference participated in by thirteen 
persons. Schroeder acted as chairman. At that confer- 
ence plans were laid for the assassinations which were 
later committed in Vienna, Stuttgart, and Strassburg by 
Stellmacher, Kammerer, and Kumitzsch. I am not in- 
formed that these unscrupulous scoundrels, although they 
were in the service of the police, had informed the police 


commissioner that those murders were being contem- 
plated. . . . Men like Stellmacher and Kammerer 
paid for their acts with their lives on the gallows. When 
[Johann] Most was serving a term in a prison in Eng- 
land, this same police spy Schroeder had Most's 'Frei- 
heit' published at Schaffhausen, Switzerland, at his own 
expense. The money surely did not come out of his own 

"That was a glorious time when [we unmasked this 
Schroeder and the other police organizer of plots, Haupt, 
to whom] the police counsellor Krueger wrote that he 
knew the next attempt on the life of the Czar of Russia 
would be arranged in Geneva, and he should send in re- 
ports. Was this demand not remarkable in the highest 
degree ? And now Herr von Ehrenberg, the former colo- 
nel of artillery of Baden ! . . . This fellow was' un- 
questionably for good reason suspected of having be- 
trayed to the General Staff of Italy the fortifications of 
Switzerland at St. Gotthard. When his residence was 
searched it was brought to light that Herr von Ehren- 
berg worked also in the employ of the Prussian police. 
He gave regularly written reports of conversations which 
he claimed to have had with our comrades, including me. 
Only in those alleged conversations the characters were 
reversed. We were represented as advocating the most 
reckless criminal plans, which in reality he himself sug- 
gested and defended, while he pictured himself in those 
reports as opposing the plans. . . . What would 
have happened if some day those reports had fallen into 
the hands of certain persons — and that was undoubtedly 
the purpose — and, if accused, we had no witnesses to 
prove the spy committed perfidy? Thus, for instance, he 
attempted to convince me — but in his records claimed 
that it was I who proposed it — ^that it would be but 


child's play to find out the residences of the higher mili- 
tary officers in all the greater cities of Germany, then, in 
one night, send out our best men and have all those offi- 
cers murdered simultaneously. In four articles pub- 
lished in the 'Arbeiterstimme,' of Zurich, he explained in 
a truly classical manner how to conduct a modern street 
battle, what to do to get the best of artillery and cav- 
alry. At meetings he urged the collection of funds to 
buy arms for our people. As soon as war broke out with 
France our comrades from Switzerland, according to 
him, should break into Baden and Wuerttemberg, should 
there tear up the tracks and confiscate the contents of the 
postal and railroad treasuries. And this man, who urged 
me to do all that, was, as I said, in the employ of the 
Prussian police. 

"Another police preacher and organizer of violent 
plots was that well-known Friedeman who was driven 
out of Berlin, and, at the gatherings of comrades in 
Zurich, appealed to them, in prose and poetry, to commit 
acts of violence. A certain Weiss, a journeyman tin- 
smith, was arrested in the vicinity of Basel for having 
put up posters in which the deeds of Kammerer and 
Stellmacher were glorified. He, too, was in the employ 
of the German police, as was afterward established dur- 
ing the court proceedings. 

"A certain Schmidt, who had to disappear from Dres- 
den on account of his crooked conduct, came to Zurich 
and urged the establishment of a special fund for assassi- 
nations, contributing twenty francs to start the fund. 
Correspondence which he had carried on with Chief of 
Police Weller, of Dresden, and which later fell into our 
hands, proved that he was in the employ of the police, 
whom he kept informed of his actions. And then the 
unmasked secret police agent Ihring-Mahlow, here in 


Berlin, who announced that he was prepared to teach the 
manufacture of explosives, for 'the parliamentary way 
is too slow.' " (25) 

Here certainly is a great source of violence and crime, 
and, in view of such revelations, no one can be sure that 
any anarchist outrage is wholly voluntary and altogether 
free from the manipulation of the secret police. With 
agents provocateurs swarming over the movement and 
working upon the minds of the weak, the susceptible, and 
the criminal, there is reason to believe that their influ- 
ence in the tragedies of terrorism is far greater than 
will ever be known. To discredit starving men on strike, 
to defeat socialists in an election, to promote a political 
intrigue, to throw the entire legislature into the hands of 
the reaction, to conceal corruption, or to take the public 
mind from too intently watching the nefarious schemes 
of a political-financial conspiracy — for all these and a 
multitude of other purposes thousands of secret police 
agents are at work. The sordid facts of this infamous 
commerce are no longer in doubt, and one wonders how 
the anarchists can delude themselves into the belief that 
they are serving the weak and lowly when they commit 
exactly the same crimes that professional assassins are 
hired to commit. This certainly is madness. To be thus 
used by their bitterest enemies, the police and the State, 
to serve thus voluntarily the forces of intrigue, of re- 
action, and of tyranny — surely nothing can be so near to 
unreason as this. When Bismarck's personal organ de- 
clared again and again, "There is nothing left to be done 
but to provoke the social democrats to commit acts of 
despair, to draw them out into the open street, and there 
to shoot them down," (26) a reasoning opponent would 
have seen that this was just what he would not allow 
himself to be drawn into. Yet Bismarck hardly says 


this and sets his police to work before the anarchist 
freely, voluntarily, and with tremendous exaltation of 
spirit attempts to carry it out. 

Strange to say, the desire of the powerful to promote 
anarchy seems to be well enough understood by the an- 
archists themselves. Kropotkin, in his "Memoirs," tells 
of two cases where police agents were sent to him with 
money to help establish anarchist papers, and there was 
hardly a moment of his revolutionary career when there 
were not police agents about him. Emma Goldman also 
appreciates the fact that the police are always ready to 
lend a hand in anarchist outrages. "For a number of 
years," she says, "acts of violence had been committed 
in Spain, for which the anarchists were held responsible, 
hounded like wild beasts, and thrown into prison. Later 
it was disclosed that the perpetrators of these acts were 
not anarchists, but members of the police department. 
The scandal became so widespread that the conservative 
Spanish papers demanded the apprehension and punish- 
ment of the gang leader, Juan Rull, who was subse- 
quently condemned to death and executed. The sensa- 
tional evidence, brought to light during the trial, forced 
Police Inspector Momento to exonerate completely the 
anarchists from any connection with the acts committed 
during a long period. This resulted in the dismissal of a 
number of police officials, among them Inspector Tres- 
sols, who, in revenge, disclosed the fact that behind the 
gang of police bomb-throwers were others of far higher 
position, who provided them with funds and protected 
them. This is one of the many striking examples of how 
anarchist conspiracies are manufactured." (27) With 
knowledge such as this, is it possible that a sane mind 
can encourage the despairing to undertake riots and in- 
surrections ? Yet when we turn to the anarchists for our 


answer, they tell us "that the accumulated forces in our 
social and economic life, culminating in a political act of 
violence, are similar to the terrors of the atmosphere, 
manifested in storm and lightning. To thoroughly ap- 
preciate the truth of this view, one must feel intensely 
the indignity of our social wrongs; one's very being 
must throb with the pain, the sorrow, the despair mil- 
lions of people are daily made to endure. Indeed, unless 
we have become a part of humanity, we cannot even 
faintly understand the just indignation that accumulates 
in a human soul, the burning, surging passion that makes 
the storm inevitable." (28) Such explosions of rage 
one would expect from the unreasonable and the child- 
like. They are bursts of passion that end in the knocking 
of one's head against a stone wall. This may in truth be 
the psychology of the violent, yet it cannot be the psychol- 
ogy of a reasoning mind. This may explain the action of 
those who have lost all control over themselves or even 
the action of a class that has not advanced beyond the 
stages of futile outbursts of passion, of aimless and sui- 
cidal violence, and of self-destructive rage. But it is in- 
credible that it should be considered by anyone as rea- 
sonable or intelligent, or, least of all, revolutionary. 

Probably still other causes of terrorism exist, but cer- 
tainly the chief are those above mentioned. The writ- 
ings of Bakounin, Nechayeff, Kropotkin, and Most; the 
miserable conditions which surround the life of a multi- 
tude of impoverished people ; the often savage repression 
of any attempts on the part of the workers to improve 
their conditions ; corrupt courts and parliaments and un- 
just laws; a false conception of ethics; a high-wrought 
nervous tension combined with compassion; the egocen- 
tric philosophy which deifies the individual and would 
press its claims even to the destruction of all else in the 


world ; these are no doubt the chief underlying causes of 
the terrorism of the last forty years. Yet, as I have said, 
there is one force making for terrorism that throws a 
confusing light on the whole series of tragedies. Why 
should the governments of Europe subsidize anarchy? 
Why should their secret police encourage outrages, plant 
dynamite, and incite the criminal elements to become 
anarchists, and in that guise to burn, pillage, and com- 
mit murder? Why should that which assumes to stand 
for law and order work to the destruction of law and 
order? What is it that leads the corrupt, vicious, and 
reactionary elements in the ofiScial world to turn thus 
to its use even anarchy and terrorism ? What end do the 
governments of Europe seek? 

I have already suggested the answers to the above 
questions, but they will not be understood by the reader 
unless he realizes that throughout all of last century the 
democratic movement has been to the privileged classes 
the most menacing spectacle imaginable. Again and 
again it arose to challenge existing society. In some 
form, however vague, it lay back of every popular move- 
ment. At moments the powerful seemed actually to fear 
that it was on the point of taking possession of the 
world, and repeatedly it has been pushed back, crushed, 
subdued, almost obliterated by their repressive measures. 
Yet again and again it arose responsive to the actual 
needs of the time, and became toward the end of the 
century one of the most impressive movements the world 
has ever known. Filled with idealism for a new social 
order, and determined to change fundamentally existing 
conditions, the working class has fought onward and up- 
ward toward a world State and a socialized industrial 
life. There can be no doubt that the amazing growth of 
the modern socialist movement has terrified the powers 


of industrial and political tyranny. To them it is an 
incomparable menace, and superhuman efforts have been 
made to turn it from its path. They have endeavored to 
divide it, to misinterpret it, to divert it, to corrupt it, 
and the greatest of all their efforts has been made to- 
ward forcing it to become a movement of terrorists, in 
order ultimately to discredit and destroy it. "We have 
always been of the opinion," declared an unknown oppo- 
nent of socialism, "that it takes the devil to drive out 
Beelzebub and that socialism must be fought with an- 
archy. As a corn louse and similar insects are driven 
out by the help of other insects that devour them and 
their eggs, so the Government should cultivate and rear 
anarchists in the principal nests of socialism, leaving it 
to the anarchists to destroy socialism. The anarchists 
will do that work more effectively than either police or 
district attorneys." (29) Has this been the chief motive 
in helping to keep terrorism alive ? 





While terrorism was running its tragic course, the so- 
cialists grew from a tiny sect into a world-wide move- 
ment. And, as terrorist acts were the expression of cer- 
tain uncontrollably rebellious spirits, so cooperatives, 
trade unions, and labor parties arose in response to the 
conscious and constructive effort of the masses. As a 
matter of fact, the terrorist groups never exercised any 
considerable influence over the actual labor movement, 
except for a brief period in Spain and America. In- 
deed, they did not in the least understand that move- 
ment. The followers of Bakounin were largely young 
enthusiasts from the middle class, who were referred to 
scornfully at the time as "lawyers without cases, physi- 
cians without patients and knowledge, students of bil- 
liards, commercial travelers, and others." (i) Yet it 
cannot be denied that violence has played, and still in a 
measure plays, a part in the labor movement. I mean 
the violence of sheer desperation. It rises and falls in 
direct relation to the lawlessness, the repression, and the 
tyranny of the governments. Furthermore, where labor 
organizations are weakest and the masses most ignorant 
and desperate, the very helplessness of the workers leads 
them into that violence. This is made clear enough by 
the historic fact that in the early days of the modern 
industrial system nearly every strike of the unorganized 



laborers was accompanied by riots, machine-breaking, 
and assaults upon men and property. 

No small part of this early violence was directly due 
to the brutal opposition of society to every form of labor 
organization. The workers were fought violently, and 
they answered violence with violence. It must not be 
forgotten that the trade unions and the socialist parties 
grew, in spite of every menace, in the very teeth of that 
which forbade them, and under the eye of that which 
sought to destroy them. And, like other living things in 
the midst of a hostile environment, they covered them- 
selves with spurs to ward off the enemy. The early 
movements of labor were marked by a sullen, bitter, and 
destructive spirit; and some of the much persecuted 
propagandists of early trade unionism and socialism 
thought that "implacable destruction" was preferable to 
the tyranny which the workers then suffered. Not the 
philosophy, but the rancor of Bakounin, of Nechayefi, 
and of Most represented, three-quarters of a century ago, 
the feeling of great masses of workingmen. Riots, in- 
surrections, machine-breaking, incendiarism, pillage, and 
even murder were then more truly expressive of the 
attitude of certain sections of the brutalized poor toward 
the society which had disinherited them than most of us 
to-day realize. In every industrial center, previous to 
1850, the working-class movement, such as it was, yielded 
repeatedly to self-exhausting expressions of blind and 
sullen rage. The resentment of the workers was deep, 
and, without program or philosophy, a spirit of destruc- 
tion often ran riot in nearly every movement of the 

During the first fifty years, then, of last century, little 
building was done. A mob spirit prevailed, and the great 
body of toilers was divided into innumerable bands, who 


fought their battles without aim, and, after weeks of 
rioting, left nothing behind them. Toward the middle 
of the century the real building of the labor movement 
commenced. In every country men soberly and seriously 
set to work, and everywhere throughout the entire indus- 
trial world the foundations were laid for the great move- 
ment that exists to-day. Yet the present world-wide 
movement, so harmonious in its principles and methods 
and so united in doctrines, could not have been all that 
it is had there not come to its aid in its most critical and 
formative period several of the ablest and best-schooled 
minds of Europe. At the period when the workers were 
finding their feet and beginning their task of organization 
on a large scale, there was also in Europe much revolu- 
tionary activity in "intellectual" circles. The forties was 
a germinating period for many new social and economic 
theories. In France, Germany, and England there were 
many groups discussing with heat and passion every the- 
ory of trade unionism, anarchism, and socialism. On 
the whole, they were middle-class "intellectuals," bat- 
tling in their sectarian circles over the evils of our eco- 
nomic life, the problems of society, and the relations be- 
tween the classes. Suddenly the revolution was upon 
them — ^the moment which they all instinctively felt was 
at hand — but, when it came, most of them were able to 
play no forceful part in it. It was a movement of vast 
masses, over which the social revolutionists had little in- 
fluence, and the various groups found themselves inca- 
pable of any really effective action. To be sure, many 
of those seeking a social revolution played a creditable 
part in the uprisings throughout Europe during '48 and 
'49, but the time had not yet arrived for the working 
classes to achieve any striking reforms of their own. The 
only notable result of the period, so far as the social 


revoluttonary element was concerned, was that it lost 
once again, nearly everywhere, its press, its liberty of 
speech, and its right of association. It was driven under- 
ground ; but there germinated, nevertheless, in the innu- 
merable secret societies, some of the most important prin- 
ciples and doctrines upon which the international labor 
movement was later to be founded. 

In France socialist theories had never been wholly 
friendless from the time of the great Revolution. The 
memory of the enrages of 1793 and of Babeuf and his 
conspiracy of 1795 had been kept green by Buonarotti 
and Marechal. The ruling classes had very cunningly 
lauded liberty and fraternity, but they rarely mentioned 
the struggle for equality, which, of course, appeared to 
them as a regrettable and most dangerous episode in the 
great Revolution. Yet, despite that fact, this early strug- 
gle for economic equality had never been wholly forgot- 
ten. Besides, there were Fourier and Saint-Simon, who, 
with ' very great scholarly attainments, had rigidly 
analyzed existing society, exposed its endless disorders, 
and advocated an entire social transformation. There 
were also Considerant, Leroux, Vidal, Pecqueur, and 
Cabet. All of these able and gifted men had kept the so- 
cial question ever to the front, while Louis Blanc and 
Blanqui had actually introduced into politics the princi- 
ples of socialism. Blanqui was an amazing character. 
He was an incurable, habitual insurrectionist, who came 
to be called I'enfermS because so much of his life was 
spent in- prison.* The authorities again and again re- 
leased him, only to hear the next instant that he was 
leading a mob to storm the citadels of the Government. 
His life was a series of unsuccessful assaults upon au- 

* The dramatic story of his life is wonderfully told in L'Eti- 
ferme by Gustave Geflfroy. (Paris, 1904.) 



thority, launched in the hope that, if the working class 
should once install itself in power, it would reorganize 
society on socialist lines. He was a man of the street, 
who had only to appear to find an army of thousands 
ready to follow him. Blanqui used to say — according 
to Kropotkin — ^that there were in Paris fifty thousand 
men ready at any moment for an insurrection. Again 
and again he arose like an apparition among them, and on 
one occasion, at the head of two hundred thousand peo- 
ple, he offered the dictatorship of France to Louis Blanc. 
The latter was an altogether different person. His stage 
was the parliamentary one. He was a powerful orator, 
who, throughout the forties, was preaching his practical 
program of social reform — ^the right to work, the organi- 
zation of labor, and the final extinction of capitalism by 
the growth of cooperative production fostered by the 
State. In 1848 he played a great role, and all Europe 
listened with astonishment to the revolutionary proposals 
of this man who, for a few months, occupied the most 
powerful position in France. At the same time Prou- 
dhon was developing the principles of anarchism and 
earning everlasting fame as the father of that philoso- 
phy. In truth, the whole gamut of socialist ideas and 
the entire range of socialist methods had been agitated 
and debated in peace and in war for half a century in 

In England the same questions had disturbed all classes 
for nearly fifty years. There had been no great revolu- 
tionary period, but from the beginning of the nineteenth 
century to the extinction of Chartism in 1848 every doc- 
trine of trade unionism, syndicalism, anarchism, and so- 
cialism had been debated passionately by groups of 
workingmen and their friends. The principles and 
methods of trade unionism were being worked out on the 


actual battlefield, amid riots, strikes, machine-breaking, 
and incendiarism. Instinctively the masses were asso- 
ciating for mutual protection and, almost unconsciously, 
working out by themselves programs of action. Never- 
theless, Joseph Hume, Francis Place, Robert Owen, and 
a number of other brilliant men were lending powerful 
intellectual aid to the workers in their actual struggle. A 
group of radical economists was also defending the 
claims of labor. Charles Hall, William Thompson, John 
Gray, Thomas Hodgskin, and J. F. Bray were all seeking 
to find the economic causes of the wrongs suffered by la- 
bor and endeavoring, in some manner, to devise remedies 
for the immense suffering endured by the working 
classes. Together with Robert Owen, a number of them 
were planning labor exchanges, voluntary communities, 
and even at one time the entire reorganization of the 
world through the trade unions. In this ferment the co- 
operative movement also had its birth. The Rochdale 
Pioneers began to work out practically some of the 
cooperative ideas of Robert Owen. With £2% a pathetic 
beginning was made that has led to the immensely rich 
cooperative movement of to-day. Furthermore, the 
Chartists were leading a vast political movement of the 
workers. In support of the suffrage and of parliamentary 
representation for workingmen, a wonderful group of 
orators and organizers carried on in the thirties and for- 
ties an immense agitation. William Lovett, Feargus 
O'Connor, Joseph Rayner Stephens, Ernest Jones, 
Thomas Cooper, and James Bronterre O'Brien were 
among the notable and gifted men who were then preach- 
ing throughout all England revolutionary and socialist 
ideas. Such questions as the abolition of inheritances, 
the nationalization of land, the right of labor to the full 
product of its toil, the necessity of breaking down class 


control of Parliament — these and other subversive ideas 
were germinating in all sections of the English labor 
movement. It was a heroic period — altogether the most 
heroic period in the annals of toil — in which the most 
advanced and varied revolutionary ideas were hurtling 
in the air. The causes of the ruin that overcame this 
magnificent beginning of a revolutionary working-class 
movement cannot be dwelt upon here. Quarrels between 
the leaders, the incoherence of their policies, and divi- 
sions over the use of violence utterly wrecked a move- 
ment that anticipated by thirty years the social democracy 
of Germany. The tragic fiasco in 1848 was the begin- 
ning of an appalling working-class reaction from years of 
popular excesses and mob intoxications, from which the 
wiser leadership of the German movement was careful to 
steer clear. And, after '48, solemn and serious men set- 
tled down to the quiet building of trade unions and 
cooperatives. Revolutionary ideas were put aside, and 
everywhere in England the responsible men of the move- 
ment were pleading with the masses to confine them- 
selves to the practical work of education and organiza- 

Although Germany was far behind England in indus- 
trial development and, consequently, also in working- 
class organization, the beginnings of a labor and socialist 
movement were discernible. A brief but delightful 
description of the early communist societies is given by 
Engels in his introduction to the Revelations sur le 
Proces des Communistes. As early as 1836 there were 
secret societies in Germany discussing socialist ideas. The 
"League of the Just" became later the "League of the 
Righteous," and that eventually developed into the 
"Communist League." The membership cards read, "All 
men are brothers." Karl Schapper, Heinrich Bauer, and 


Joseph Moll, all workingmen, were among those who 
made an imposing impression upon Engels. Even more 
notable was WeitUng, a tailor, who traveled all over Ger- 
many preaching a mixture of Christian communism and 
French Utopian socialism. He was a simple-hearted 
missionary, delivering his evangel. "The World As It 
Is and As It Might Be" was the moving title of one 
of his books that attracted to him not only many fol- 
lowers among the workers, but also notable men from 
other classes. Most of the communists were of course 
always under suspicion, and many of them were forced 
out of their own countries. As a result, a large number 
of foreigners — Scandinavians, Dutch, Hungarians, Ger- 
mans, and Italians — found themselves in Paris and in 
London, and astonished each other by the similarity of 
their views. All Europe in this period was discussing 
very much the same things, and not only the more intelli- 
gent among the workers but the more idealistic among 
the youth from the universities were in revolt, discussing 
fervently republican, socialist, communist, and anarchist 
ideas. In "Young Germany," George Brandes gives a 
thrilling account of the spiritual and intellectual fer- 
ment that was stirring in all parts of the fatherland dur- 
ing the entire forties. (2) 

It was in this agitated period that Marx and Engels, 
both mere youths, began to press their ideas in revolu- 
tionary circles., They met each other in Paris in 1844, 
and there began their lifelong cooperative labors. En- 
gels, although a German, was living in England, occu- 
pied in his father's cotton business at Manchester. He 
had taken a deep interest in the condition of the laboring 
classes, and had followed carefully the terrible and often 
bloody struggles that so frequently broke out between 
capital and labor in England during the thirties and for- 


ties. Arriving by an entirely different route, he had 
come to opinions almost identical with those of Marx; 
and the next year he persuaded Marx to visit the factory 
districts of Lancashire, in order to acquaint himself actu- 
ally with the enraged struggle then being fought between 
masters and men. Engels had not gone to a university, 
although he seems somehow to have acquired, despite his 
business cares and active association with the men and 
movements of his time, a thorough education. On the 
other hand, Marx was a university man, having studied 
at Jena, Bonn, and Berlin. Like most of the serious 
young men of the period, Marx was a devoted Hegelian-. 
When his university days were over, he became the edi- 
tor of the Rheinische Zeitung of Cologne, but at the age 
of twenty-four he found his paper suppressed because 
of his radical utterances. He went to Paris, only to be 
expelled in 1845. He found a refuge in Belgium until 

1848, when the Government evidently thought it wise that 
he should move on. Shortly after, he returned to Ger- 
many to take up his editorial work once more, but in 

1849, his Neue Rheinische Zeitung was suppressed, and 
he was forced to return to Paris. The authorities, not 
wishing him there, sent him off to London, where he re- 
mained the rest of his life. By the irony of fate, even the 
governments of Europe seemed to be conspiring to force 
Marx to become the best equipped man of his time. To 
the leisure and travel enforced upon him by the Euro- 
pean governments was due in no small measure his long 
schooling in economic theory, revolutionary political 
movements, and working-class methods of action. Both 
he and Engels penetrated into every nest of discontent. 
They came personally in touch with every group of dissi- 
dents. They Spent many weary but invaluable weeks in 
the greatest libraries of Europe, with the result that they 


became thoroughly schooled in philosophy, economics, 
science, and languages. They pursued, to the minutest 
detail, with an inexhaustible thirst, the theories not only 
of the "authorities" but also of nearly every obscure so- 
cialist, radical, and revolutionist in England, France, 
Russia, and Germany. 

In Brussels, Paris, and London, around the forties, a 
number of brilliant minds seemed somehow or other to 
come frequently in contact with each other. Many of 
them had been driven out of their own countries, and, 
as exiles abroad, they had ample leisure to plan their 
great conspiracies or to debate their great theories. Some 
of the notable radicals of the period were Heine, Freil- 
igrath, Herwegh, Willich, Kinkel, Weitling, Bakounin, 
Ruge, Ledru-Rollin, Blanc, Blanqui, Cabet, Proudhon, 
Ernest Jones, Eccarius, Marx, Engels, and Liebknecht; 
and many of them came together from time to time and, 
in great excitement and passion, fought as "Roman to 
Roman" over their panaceas. Marx and Engels knew 
most of them and spent innumerable hours, not infre- 
quently entire days and nights, at a sitting, in their intel- 
lectual battles. 

It was a most fortunate thing for Marx that the 
French Government should have driven him in 1849 to 
London. "Capital" might never have been written had 
he not been forced to study for a long period the first 
land in all Europe in which modern capitalism had ob- 
tained a footing. On his earlier visit in 1845 he had 
spent a few weeks with Engels in the great factory cen- 
ters, and he had been deeply impressed with this new 
industrialism and no less, of course, with the English 
labor movement. Nothing to compare with it then ex- 
isted in France or Germany. As early as 1840 many of 
the trades were well organized, and repeated efforts had 


been made to bring them together into a national fed- 
eration. How thoroughly Engels knew this movement 
and its varied struggles to better the status of labor is 
shown in his book, "The Condition of the Working Class 
in England in 1844." How thoroughly and fundamen- 
tally Marx later came to know not only the actual work- 
ing-class movement, but every economic theory from 
Adam Smith to John Stuart Mill, and every insurgent 
economist and political theorist from William Godwin 
to Bronterre O'Brien, is shown in "Capital." In fact, 
not a single phase of insurgent thought seemed to escape 
Marx and Engels, nor any trace of revolt against the 
existing order, whether political or industrial. In Ger- 
many they were schooled in philosophy and science; in 
France they found ■ themselves in a most amazing f er- 
meritation of revolutionary spirit and idealism; and in 
England they studied with the minutest care the co- 
operative movement and self-help, the trade-union move- 
ment with its purely economic aims and methods, the 
Chartist movement with its political action, and the 
Owenite movement, both in its purely Utopian phases and 
in its later development into syndicalist socialism. This 
long and profound study placed Marx and Engels in a 
position infinitely beyond that of their contemporaries. 
Possessed as they were of unusual mental powers, it 
was inevitable that such a training should have placed 
them in a position of intellectual leadership in the then 
rapidly forming working-class organizations of Europe. 
The study of English capitalism convinced Marx of 
the truthfulness of certain generalizations which he had 
already begun to formulate in 1844. It became more 
and more evident to him that economic facts, to which 
history had hitherto attributed no role or a very inferior 
one, constituted, at least in the modern world, a de- 


cisive historic force. "They form the source from which 
spring the present class antagonisms. These antago- 
nisms in countries where great industry has carried them 
to their complete development, particularly in England, 
are the bases on which parties are founded, are the 
sources of political struggles, are the reasons for all 
political history." (3) Although Marx had arrived at 
this opinion earlier and had generalized this point of view 
in "French-German Annals," his study of English eco- 
nomics swept away any possible doubt that "in general 
it was not the State which conditions and regulates civil 
society, but civil society which conditions and regulates 
the State, that it was then necessary to explain politics 
and history by economic relations, and not to proceed 
inversely." (4) "This discovery which revolutionized 
historical science was essentially the work of Marx," 
says Engels, and, with his customary modesty, he adds: 
"The part which can be attributed to me is very small. 
It concerned itself directly with the working-class move- 
ment of the period. Communism in France and Ger- 
many and Chartism in England appeared to be some- 
thing more than mere chance which could just as well 
not have existed. These movements became now a move- 
ment of the oppressed class of modern times, the work- 
ing class. Henceforth they were more or less developed 
forms of the historically necessary struggle which this 
class must carry on against the ruling class, the bour- 
geoisie. They were forms of the struggle of the classes, 
but which were distinguished from all preceding strug- 
gles by this fact : the class now oppressed, the proletariat, 
cannot effect its emancipation without delivering all so- 
ciety from its division into classes, without freeing it 
from class struggles. No longer did Communism con- 
sist in the creation of a social ideal as perfect as possible; 


it resolved itself into a clear view of the nature, the con- 
ditions, and the general ends of the struggle carried on 
by the working class." (5) 

It was not the intention of Marx and Engels to com- 
municate their new scientific results to the intellectual 
world exclusively by means of large volumes. On the 
contrary, they plunged into the political movement. Be- 
sides having intercourse with xvell-known people, par- 
ticularly in the western part of Germany, they were also 
in contact with the organized working classes. "Our 
duty was to found our conception scientifically, but it was 
just as important that we should win over the European, 
and especially the German, working classes to our con- 
victions. When it was all clear in our eyes, we set to 
work." (6) A new German working-class society was 
founded in Brussels, and the support was enlisted of the 
Deutsche BrUsseler Zeitung, which served as an organ 
until the revolution of February. They were in touch 
with the revolutionary faction of the English Chartists 
under the leadership of George Julian Harney, editor of 
The Northern Star, to which Engels contributed. They 
also had intercourse with the democrats of Brussels and 
with the French social democrats of la Reforme, to 
which Engels contributed news of the English and Ger- 
man movements. In short, the relations that Marx and 
Engels had established with the radical and working- 
class organizations fully served the great purposes they 
had in mind. 

It was in the Communist League that Marx and En- 
gels saw their first opportunity to impress their ideas on 
the labor movement. At the urgent request of Joseph 
Moll, a watchmaker and a prominent member of the 
League, Marx consented, in 1847, to present to that or- 
ganization his views, and the result was the famous Com- 


munist Manifesto. Every essential idea of modem so- 
cialism is contained in that brief declaration. Unfor- 
tunately, however, outside of Germany, the Communist 
League was an exotic organization that could make little 
use of such a program. Its members were mostly ex- 
iles, who, by the very nature of their position, were hope- 
lessly out of things. Little groups, surrounded by a for- 
eign people, exiles are rarely able to affect the move- 
ment at home or influence the national movement amid 
which they are thrust. There is little, therefore, note- 
worthy about the Communist League. It had, to be sure, 
gathered together a few able and energetic spirits, and 
some of these in later years exercised considerable influ- 
ence in the International. But, as a rule, the groups of 
the Communist League were little more than debating 
societies whose members were filled with sentimental, 
visionary, and insurrectionary ideas. Marx himself 
finally lost all patience with them, because he could not 
drive out of their heads the idea that they could revolu- 
tionize the entire world by some sudden dash and 
through the exercise of will power, personal sacrifice, and 
heroic action. The Communist League, therefore, is 
memorable only because it gave Marx and Engels an 
opportunity for issuing their epoch-making Manifesto, 
that even to-day is read and reread by the workers in all 
lands of the world. Translated into every language, it is 
the one pamphlet that can be found in every country as 
a part of the basic literature of socalism. 

There are certain principles laid down in the Com- 
munist Manifesto which time cannot affect, although the 
greater part of the document is now of historic value 
only. The third section, for instance, is a critique of the 
various types of socialism then existing in Europe, and 
this part can hardly be understood to-day by those un- 


acquainted with those sectarian movements. It deals 
with Reactionary Socialism, Feudal Socialism, Clerical 
Socialism, Petty Bourgeois Socialism, German Social- 
ism,' Conservative or Bourgeois Socialism, Critical-Uto- 
pian Socialism, and Communism. The mere enumeration 
of these types of socialist doctrine indicates what a chaos 
of doctrine and theory then existed, and it was in order 
to distinguish themselves from these various schools 
that Marx and Engels took the name of communists. 
Beginning with the statement, "The history of all hither- 
to existing society is the history of class struggles," (7) 
the Manifesto treats at length the modern struggle be- 
tween the working class and the capitalist class. 
After tracing the rise of capitalism, the develop- 
ment of a new working class, and the consequences 
to the people of the new economic order, Marx and En- 
gels outline the program of the communists and their re- 
lation to the then existing working-class organizations 
and political parties. They deny any intention of form- 
ing a new sect, declaring that they throw themselves 
whole-heartedly into the working-class movement of all 
countries, with the one aim of encouraging and develop- 
ing within those groups a political organization for the 
conquest of political power. They outline certain meas- 
ures which, in their opinion, should stand foremost in 
the program of labor, all of them having to do with some 
modification of the institution of property. 

In order to achieve these reforms, and eventually "To 
wrest, by degrees, all capital from the bourgeoisie, to 
centralize all instruments of production in the hands of 
the State," (8) they urge the formation of labor par- 
ties as soon as proper preparations have been made and 
the time is ripe for effective class action. All through 
the Manifesto runs the motif that every class struggle is 


a political struggle. Again and again Marx and Engels 
return to that thought in their masterly survey of the 
historical conflicts between the classes. They show how 
the bourgeoisie, beginning as "an oppressed class under 
the sway of the feudal nobility," gradually . . . 
"conquered for itself, in the modern representative State, 
exclusive political sway," until to-day "the executive of 
the modern State is but a committee for managing the 
common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie." (9) Tracing 
the rise of the modern working class, they tell of its 
purely retaliative efforts against the capitalists; how at 
first "they smash to pieces machinery, they set factories 
ablaze" ; how they fight in "incoherent" masses, "broken 
up by their mutual competition"; (10) even their unions 
are not so much a result of their conscious effort as they 
are the consequence of oppression. Furthermore, the 
workers "do not fight their enemies, but the enemies of 
their enemies." (ii) "Now and then the workers are 
victorious, but only for a time. The real fruit of their 
battles lies not in the immediate result, but in the ever- 
expanding union of the workers." (12) It is when their 
unions grow national in character and the struggle de- 
velops into a national struggle between the classes that 
it naturally takes on a political character. Then begins 
the struggle for conquering political power. But, while 
"all previous historical movements were movements of 
minorities, or in the interests of minorities, the prole- 
tarian movement is the self-conscious, independent move- 
ment of the immense majority, in the interest of the im- 
mense majority." (13) Returning again to the underly- 
ing thought, it is pointed out that the working class must 
"win the battle of democracy." (14) It must acquire 
"political supremacy." It must raise itself to "the posi- 
tion of ruling class," in order that it may sweep away 


"the conditions for the existence of class antagonisms, 
and of classes generally." (15) 

Such were the doctrines and tactics proclaimed by 
Marx and Engels in 1847. The Manifesto is said to have 
been received with great enthusiasm by the League, but, 
whatever happened at the moment, it is clear that the 
members never understood the doctrines manifested. In 
any case, various factions in the movement were still 
clamoring for insurrection and planning their conspira- 
cies, wholly faithful to the revolution-making artifices 
of the period. Two of the most prominent, Willich and 
Schapper, were carried away with revolutionary passion, 
and "the majority of the London workers," Engels says, 
"refugees for the most part, followed them into the camp 
of the bourgeois democrats, the revolution-makers." (16) 
They declined to listen to protests. "They wanted to go 
the other way and to make revolutions," continues En- 
gels. "We refused absolutely to do this and the schism 
followed." (17) 

On the 15th of September, 1850, Marx decided to re- 
sign from the central council of the organization, and, 
feeling that such an act required some justification, he 
prepared the following written declaration : "The minor- 
ity * [i. e., his opponents] have substituted the dogmatic 
spirit for the critical, the idealistic interpretation of 
events for the materialistic. Simple will power, instead 
of the true relations of things, has become the motive 
force of revolution. While we say to the working peo- 
ple : 'You will have to go through fifteen, twenty, fifty 
years of civil wars and wars between nations not only to 
change existing conditions, but to change yourselves and 

*In the authority cited below this appears as "the minority," 
but I notice that in Jaures' "Studies in Socialism," p. 44, it 
appears as "the majority." 


make yourselves worthy of political power,' you, on the 
contrary, say, 'We ought to get power at once, or else 
give up the fight.' While we draw the attention of the 
German workman to the undeveloped state of the prole- 
tariat in Germany, you flatter the national spirit and the 
guild prejudices of the German artisans in the grossest 
manner, a method of procedure without doubt the more 
popular of the two. Just as the democrats made a sort of 
fetish of the words 'the people,' so you make one of the 
word 'proletariat.' Like them, you substitute revolu- 
tionary phrases for revolutionary evolution." (i8) This 
statement of .Marx is one of the most significant docu- 
ments of the period and certainly one of the most illumi- 
nating we possess of Marx's determination to disavow 
the insurrectionary ideas then so prevalent throughout 
Europe. Although he had said the same thing before in 
other words, there could be no longer any doubt that he 
cherished no dreams of a great revolutionary cataclysm, 
nor fondled the then prevalent theory that revolutions 
could be organized, planned, and executed by will power 

It is clear, therefore, that Marx sa w, as early as 1850, 
little revolutionary promise in sectari an or^anizatio^Jsl 
secret societies, and political conspiracies., Jie-Ji^ijwwas 
past for insurrections, and a real revolution couldonly, 
arrive as a result of economic forces and class antago- 
nisms. And it is quite obvious "fKaTTiewas becoming more 
and more irritated by the sentimentalism and dress-pa- 
rade revolutionism of the socialist sects. He looked upon 
their projects as childish and theatrical, that gave as little 
promise of changing the world's history as battles be- 
tween tin soldiers on some nursery floor. He seemed no 
longer concerned with ideals, abstract rights, or "eternal 
verities." Those who misunderstood him or were little 


associated with him were horrified at what they thought 
was his cynical indifference to such glorious visions as 
liberty, fraternity, and equality. Like Darwin, Marx 
was always an earnest seeker of facts and forces. He 
was laying the foundations of a scientific socialism and 
dissecting the anatomy of capitalism in pursuit of the 
laws of social evolution. The gigantic intellectual la- 
bors of Marx from 1850 to 1870 are to-day receiving 
due attention, and, while one after another of the later 
economists has been forced reluctantly to acknowledge 
his genius, few now will take issue with Professor Al- 
bion W. Small when he says, "I confidently predict that 
in the ultimate judgment of history Marx will have a 
place in social science analogous with that of Gali- 
leo in physical science." (19) In exile, and often des- 
perate poverty, Marx worked out with infinite care the 
scientific basis of the generalization — ^first given to the 
world in the Communist Manifesto — that social and po- 
litical institutions are the product of economic forces. 
In all periods there have been antagonistic economic 
classes whose relative power is determined by struggles 
between them. "Freedman and slave," he says, "patrician 
and plebeian, lord and serf, guild master and journey- 
man, in a word, oppressor and oppressed, stood in con- 
stant opposition to one another, carried on an uninter- 
rupted, now hidden, now open fight, a fight that each 
time ended either in a revolutionary reconstruction of 
society at large, or in the common ruin of the contending 
classes." (20) Here is a summary of that conflict which 
Professor Small declares "is to the social process what 
friction is to mechanics." (21) It may well be that "the 
fact of class struggle is as axiomatic to-day as the fact 
of gravitation," (22) yet, when Marx first elaborated his 
theory, it was not only a revolutionary doctrine among 


the socialist sects, but like Darwin's theory of evolution 
it was assailed from every angle by every school of econ- 
omists. The important practical quest ion th at arises out 
Qfjhis scieiffific work, and which "partic ulaflyT OBeeTnS 
us here', is that this theory of the cE ss' struggle lorever 
destroyed the old ideas of revolution, scrap-heaped con- 
spiracies and insurrections^ and laidP^e theoretical" 
foundations for the modern working:H(Jj|ss^,movernent. 

Actually, it was Utopian socialism that was destroyed 
by this new theory. It expressed itself in at least three 
diverse ways. There were groups of conspirators and 
revolutionists who believed that the world was on the 
eve of a great upheaval and that the people should pre- 
pare for the moment when suddenly they could seize the 
governments of Europe, destroy ancient institutions, and 
establish a new social order. Another form of utopian- 
ism was the eifort to persuade the capitalists themselves 
to abolish dividends, profits, rent, and interest, to turn 
the factories over to the workers, to become themselves 
toilers, and to share equally, one with another, the 
products of their joint labor. Still another form of 
Utopian socialism was that of Owen, Fourier, and Cabet, 
who contemplated the establishment of ideal communi- 
ties in which a new world should be built, where all 
should be free and equal, and where fraternity would be 
based upon a perfect economic communism. Some really 
noble spirits in France, England, and America had de- 
voted time, love, energy, and wealth to this propaganda 
and in actual attempts to establish these Utopias. But 
after '48 the upper classes were despaired of. Their 
brutal reprisak, their supp ression of, every w orking-class 
movement, their ferocious repression of the umons, of 
the press, and of the right of ass^nKy— all these ma- 
terially aided Marx's theory in disillusi.Qmng many of the 


philanth ropicajicltender-hearted Utopians. And from 
then_on_^^nopeof every sincere advocate of funda- 
mental. social changes rested on the woi-king class^^on its' 
organizations, its press, and its labors — for the estab-\ 
lisfiment of the new orde,r._J_„, 

The most striking characteristic of thejeriod which 
follows was the attempt oT[an_th^sociahst_an^^ 
sects jo miect t heir ide a s into _the rising labor movement. 
With the single exception of Robert Owen in England, 
the earlier socialists had ignored the working classes. 
All their appeals were made to well-to-do men, and some 
of them even hoped that the monarchs of Europe might 
be induced to take the initiative. But Marx and Engds 
made t heir appe al chiefly to the working class. The^^roj 
founH' reaction which"''settlecrover Euro£e^in the years 
following"*38' ended aff other dreams, and Jrom^thisjime 
on eveiy proposal for a radical change^ in the organization 
of society was presented to the workers as the only class 
tHaTwasTeal^ seeking, by reason oFits economic subjec- 
tion, basic alterations in the institutions of property and 
the constitution of the State. The working classes of 
Germany, France, England, and other countries had al- 
ready begun to form groups for the purpose of discuss- 
ing political questions, and the ideas of Marx began to 
be propagated in all the centers of working-class activity. 

The J)lending o f labor and socialism in most of jthe 
countries oi Euro£e_was not, however, a work of ^onths, 
but^of _decades. The first great effort to accomplish 
tHaFtask occurred in 1864, when the International Work- 
ing Men's Association was launched in St. Martin's Hall 
in London. During the years from '47 to '64, Marx and 
Engels, with their little coterie in London and their cor- 
respondents in other countries, spent most of their time 
in study, reading, and writing, with little opportunity to 


participate in the actual struggles of labor. Marx was at 
work on "Capital" and schooling, in his leisure hours, a 
few of the notable men who were later to become lead- 
ers of the working class in Europe. It was a dull period, 
wearisome and vexatious enough to men who were boldly 
prophesying that industrial conditions would create _ a 
world-wide solidarity of labor. The first glimmer oi. 
hope came with the J^ondon International Exhibition of 1 
1862, which brought together by chance groups of work- ^ 
ingmen from various countries. The visit to London 
enabled them to observe the British trade unions, and 
they left deeply impressed by their strength. Further- 
more, the Exhibition brought the English workers and 
those of other nationalities into touch with each other. 
How much this meant was shown in 1863. When the 
Polish uprising was being suppressed, the English work- 
ers sent to their French comrades a protest, in answer 
to which the Paris workmen sent a delegation to London. 
This gathering in sympathy with Poland laid the foun- 
dations for the International. Nearly every important 
revolutionary sect in Europe was represented: the Ger- 
man communists, the French Blanquists and Proudhon- 
ians, and the Italian Mazzinians; but the only delegates 
who represented powerful working-class organizations 
were the English trade unionists. The other organiza- 
tions, even as late as this, were still little more than co- 
teries, of hero-worshiping tendencies, fast developing 
into sectarian organizations that seemed destined to di- 
vide hopelessly and forever the labor movement. 

It was perhaps inevitable that the more closely the 
sects were brought together, the more clearly they should 
perceive their differences, although Marx had exercised 
every care to draft a policy that would allay strife. Maz- 
zini and his followers could ftot long endure the policies 


of the International, and they soon withdrew. The 
Proudhonians never at any time sympathized with the 
program and methods adopted by the International. 
The German organizations were not able to affiliate, by 
reason of the political conditions in that country, al- 
though numerous individuals attended the congresses. 
Nearly all the Germans were supporters of the policies 
of Marx, while most of the leading trade unionists of 
England completely understood and sympathized with 
Marx's aim of uniting the various working-class organi- 
zations of Europe into an international association. They 
all felt that such a movement was an historic and eco- 
nomic necessity and that the time for it had arrived. They 
intended to set about that work and to knit together the 
innumerable little organizations then forming in all coun- 
' tries. They sought to institute a meeting ground where 
the social and political program of the workers could be 
formulated, where their views could be clarified, and their 
purposes defined. It was not to be a secret organization, 
but entirely open and above board. It was not for con- 
spiratory action, but for the building up of a great move- 
ment. It was not intended to encourage insurrection or 
to force ahead of time a revolution. In the opinion of 
Marx, as we know, a social revolution was thought to be 
inevitable, and the International was to bide its_ time, pre- 
paring for the day of its coming, in order to make that 
revolution as peaceable and as eifective as possible. 

The Preamble of the Provisional Rules of the Inter- 
national — entirely the work of Marx — expresses with 
sufficient clearness the position of the International. It 
was there declared : "That the ^mancipation of the work- 
ing classes must be conquered by the. working .classes 
ffiJnrsefvesTtHaiOhe'sS'uggle forjhe^emancipation of the 
woriang~classes~fnSns not a struggle for class privileges 


and monopolies, but for equal rights and duties, and the 
abolition or all class rule;" ■~~'~ — »~«.™^- 

"That the economic subjection of the man of labor 
to the monopolizer of the means of labor, that is, the 
sources of life, lies at the bottom of servitude in all its 
forms, of all social misery, mental degradation, and po- 
litical dependence ; 

"That the economic emancipation of the working 
classes is therefore the great end to which every political 
movement ought to be subordinate as a means ; 

"That all efforts aiming at that great end have hitherto 
failed from the want of solidarity between the manifold 
divisions of labor in each country, and from the absence 
of a fraternal bond of union between the working classes 
of different countries ; 

"That the emancipation of labor is neither a local nor 
a national, but a social problem, embracing all countries 
in which modern society exists, and depending for its 
solution on the concurrence, practical and theoretical, 
of the most advanced countries ; 

"That the present revival of the working classes in the 
most industrial countries of Europe, while it raises a new 
hope, gives solemn warning against a relapse into the 
old errors and calls for the immediate combination of the 
still disconnected movements." (23) ,,^ 

In this brief declaration we find the essence of Marx- ] 
ian socialism: that the working classes must them- ] 
selves work out their own salvation ; that their servitude 
is economic; and that all workers must join together in 
a political movement, national and international, in order 
to achieve their emancipation. Unfortunately, the 
Proudhonian anarchists were never able to comprehend 
the position of Marx, and in the first congress at Geneva, 
in 1866, the quarrels between the various elements gave 


Marx no little concern. He did not attend that con- 
gress, and he afterward wrote to his young friend, Dr. 
Kugelmann : "I was unable to go, and I did not wish 
to do so, but it was I who wrote the program of the 
London delegates. I limited it on purpose to points 
which admit of an immediate understanding and common 
action by the workingmen, and which give immediately 
strength and impetus to the needs of the class struggle 
and to the organization of the workers as a class. The 
Parisian gentlemen had their heads filled with the most 
empty Proudhonian phraseology. They chatter of sci- 
ence, and know nothing of it. They scorn all revolution- 
ary action, that is to say, proceeding from the class 
struggle itself, every social movement that is centralized 
and consequently obtainable by legislation through politi- 
cal means (as, for example, the legal shortening of th^ 
working day)." (24) These words indicate that Marx 
considered the chief work of the International to be the 
building up of a working-class political movement to ob- 
tain laws favorable to labor. Furthermore, he was of 
the opinion that such work was of a revolutionary na- 
ture. '""" 
The clearest statement, perhaps, of Marx's idea of the 
revolutionary character of political activity is to be 
found in the address which he prepared at the request 
of the public meeting that launched the International. 
He traces there briefly the conditions of the working 
class in England. After depicting the misery of the 
masses, he hastily reviews the growth of the labor movCi. 
ment that ended with the Chartist agitation. Although] 
from 1848 to 1864 was a period when the English work- 
ing class seemed, he says, "thoroughly reconciled to a 
state of political nullity," (25) nevertheless two encour- 
aging developments had taken place. One was the vie- 


tory w5n by the working classes in carrying the Ten 
Hours Bill. It was "not only a great practical success; 
it was the victory of a principle ; it was the first time that 
in broad daylight the political economy of the middle 
class succumbed to the political economy of the working 

~class." (26) The other victory was the growth of the 
cooperative movement. "The value of these great social 

'experiments cannot be overrated," he says. "By deed, 
instead of by argument, they have shown that production 
on a large scale, and in accord with the behests of mod- 
ern science, may be carried on without the existence of 
a class of masters employing a class of hands." (27) 
Arguing that cooperative labor should be developed to 
national dimensions and be fostered by State funds, he 
urges working-class political action as the means to 
achieve this end. "To conquer political power has there- 
fore become the great duty of the working classes." (28) 
This is the conclusion of Marx concerning revolutionary 
methods; and it is clear that his conception of "revolu- 
tionary action" differed not only from that of the Prou- 
dhonians and Mazzinians, but also from that of "the 
bourgeois democrats, the revolution-makers," (29) who 
"extemporized revolutions." (30) 

At the end of Marx's letter to Kugelmann, he tells of 
the beginning already made by the International in Lon- 
don in actual political work. "The movement for elec- 
toral reform here," he writes, "which our General Coun- 
cil (quorum magna pars) created and launched, has as- 
sumed dimensions that have kept on growing until now 
they are irresistible." (31) The General Council threw 
itself unreservedly into this agitation. An electoral re- 
form conference was held in February, 1867, attended 
by two hundred delegates from all parts of England, 
Scotland, and Ireland. Later, gigantic mass meetings 


were held throughout the country to bring pressure upon 
the Government. Frederic Harrison and Professor E. 
S. Beesly, well known for their sympathy with labor, 
were appealing to the working classes to throw their 
energies into the fight. "Nothing will compel the ruling 
classes," wrote Harrison in 1867, "to recognize the 
rights of the working classes and to pay attention to 
their just demands until the workers have obtained po- 
litical power." (32) Professor Beesly, the intimate 
friend of Marx, was urging the unions to enter politics 
as an independent force, on the ground that the difference 
between the Tories and the Liberals was only the differ- 
ence between the upper and nether millstones. In all this 
agitation Marx saw, of course, the working out of his 
own ideas for the upbuilding of a great independent 
political organization of the working class. All the ener- 
gies of the General Council of the International were, 
therefore, devoted to the political struggle of the British 
workers. However, in all this campaign, emphasis was 
placed upon the central idea of the association — that 
political power was wanted, in order, peaceably and 
legally, to remedy economic wrongs. The wretche d con- 
dition^_the _workers_in the jndustnaj towns and the 
even greater misery of the Irish peasants and English 
far m laborer s were the bases of all agitation. lA^'hile 
occupied at this time chiefly with the economic and po- 
litical struggles in Britain, the General Council was also 
keeping a sharp eye on similar conditions in Europe and 
America. When Lincoln was chosen President for the 
second time, a warm address of congratulation was sent 
to the American people, expressing joy that the sworn 
enemy of slavery had been again chosen to represent 
them. More than once the International communicated 
with Lincoln, and perhaps no words more perfectly ex- 


press the ideal of the labor movement than those that 
Lincoln once wrote to a body of workingmen: "The 
strongest bond of human sympathy, outside of the family 
relation, should be one uniting all working people, of all 
nations, and tongues, and kindreds." (33) 

To unite thus the workers of all lands and to organ^ 
ize them into great political parties were the chief aims 
of Marx in the International. And in 1869 it seemed 
that this might actually be accomplished in a few years. 
In France, Belgium, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, 
lltaly, and other countries the International was making 
' rapid headway. Nearly all the most important labor , 
bodies of Europe were actually affiliated, or at least \ 
friendly, to the new movement. At all the meetings^ 
held there was enthusiasm, and the future of the Inter- 
national seemed very promising indeed. It was recog- 
nized as the vehicle for expressing the views of labor 
throughout Europe. It had formulated its principles and 
tactics, and had already made a creditable beginning in 
the gigantic task before it of systematically carrying on 
its agitation, education, and organization. Marx's ener- 
gies were being taxed to the utmost. Nearly all the im- 
mense executive work of the International fell on him, 
and nearly every move made was engineered by him. 
Yet at that very time he was on the point of publishing 
the first volume of "Capital," the result of gigantic re- 
searches into industrial history and economic theory. 
This great work was intended to be, in its literal sense, 
the Bible of the working class, as indeed it has since be- 
come. Cerainly, Jaures' tribute to Marx is well de- 
served and fairly sums up the work accomplished by him 
in the period 1847-1869. "To Marx belongs the 
merit," he says, "... of having drawn together 
and unified the labor movement and the socialist idea. 


In the first third of the nineteenth century labor strug- 
gled and fought against the crushing power of capital; 
but it was not conscious itself toward what end it was 
straining; it did not know that the true objective of its 
effort was the common ownership of property. And, on 
the other hand, socialism did not know that the labor 
movement was the living form in which its spirit was 
embodied, the concrete practical force of which it stood 
in need. Marx was the most clearly convinced and the 
most powerful among those who put an end to the em- 
piricism of the labor movement and the utopianism of the 
socialist thought, and this should always be remembered 
to his credit. By a crowning application of the Hegelian_ 
method, he united the Idea and the Fact, thought and 
history. He enriched the practical movement by the 
i dea, and to the theory he added practice ; he brought the 
sociali st thought into proletarian life, and proletarian 
life into socialist thought^ From that time on socialism 
arid the proletariat became inseparable." (34) 



At the moment when the future of the International 
seemed most promising and the poHtical ideas of Marx 
were actually taking root in nearly all countries, an appli- 
cation was received by the General Council in London 
to admit the Alliance of Social Democracy. This, we will 
remember, was the organization that Bakounin had 
formed in 1868 and was the popular section of that re- 
markable secret hierarchy which he had endeavored to 
establish in 1864. The General Council declined to ad- 
mit the Alliance, on grounds which proved later to be 
well founded, namely, that schisms would undoubtedly be 
encouraged if the International should permit an organi- 
zation with an entirely different program and policies to 
join it in a body. Nevertheless, the General Council de- 
clared that the members of the Alliance could affiliate 
themselves as individuals with the various national sec- 
tions. After considerable debate, Bakounin and his fol- 
lowers decided to abandon the Alliance and to join the 
International. Whether the Alliance was in fact abol- 
ished is still open to question, but in any case Bakounin 
appeared in the International toward the end of the six- 
ties, to challenge all the theories of Marx and to offer, 
in their stead, his own philosophy of universal revolu- 
tion. Anarchism as the end and terrorism as the means 
were thus injected into the organization at its most form- 
ative period, when the laboring classes of all Europe had 



just begun to write their program, evolve their princi- 
ples, and define their tactics. With great force and mag- 
netism, Bakounin undertook his war upon the General 
Council, and those who recall the period will realize that 
nothing could have more nearly expressed the occa- 
sional spirit of the masses — the very spirit that Marx and 
Engels were endeavoring to change — than exactly the 
methods proposed by Bakounin. 
/ Whether it were better to move gradually and peace- 
I fully along what seemed a never-ending road to emanci- 
I pation or to begin the revolution at once by insurrection 
land civil war — this was in reality the question which, 
jfrom that moment on, agitated the International. It had 
plways troubled more or less the earlier organizations of 

(labor, and now, aided by Bakounin's eloquence and fiery 
revolutionism, it became the great bone of contention 
(throughout Europe. The struggles in the International 
^ptween those who became known later as the anarchists 
and the socialists remind one of certain Greek stories, 
in which the outstanding figures seem to impersonate 
mighty forces, and it is not impossible that one day they 
may serve as material for a social epic. We all know 
to-day the interminable study that engages the the- 
ologians in their attempts to describe the battles and 
schisms in the early Christian Church. And there can 
be no doubt that, if socialism fulfills the purpose which 
its advocates have in mind, these early struggles in its 
history will become the object of endless research and 
commentary. The calumnies, the feuds, the misunder- 
standings, the clashing of doctrines, the antagonism of 
the ruling spirits, the plots and conspiracies, the victories 
and defeats — ^all these various phases of this war to the 
death between socialists and anarchists — will in that case 
present to history the most vital struggle of this age. 


But, whatever may be the outcome of the socialist move- 
ment, it is hardly too much to say that to both an- 
archists and socialists these struggles seemed, at the 
time they were taking place, of supreme importance to 
the destinies of humanity. 

The contending titans of this war were, of course, 
Karl Marx and Michael Bakounin. It is hardly neces- 
sary to go into the personal feud that played so con- 
spicuous a part in the struggle between them. Perhaps 
no one at this late day can prove what Marx and his 
friends themselves were unable to prove — ^although they 
never ceased repeating the allegations — that Bakounin 
was a spy of the Russian Government, that his life had 
been thrice spared through the influence of that Govern- 
ment, that he was treacherous and dishonest, and that his 
sole purpose was to disrupt and destroy the International 
Working Men's Association. Nor is it necessary to con- 
sider the charges made against Marx — some of them 
time has already taken care of — that he was domineering, 
malicious, and ambitious, that his spirit was actuated by 
intrigue, and that, when he conceived a dislike for any- 
one, he was merciless and conscienceless in his warfare 
on that one. Incompatibility of temperament and of 
personality played its part in the battles between these 
two, but, even had there been no mutual dislike, the dif- 
ferences between their principles and tactics would have 
necessitated a battle d outrance. 

For twenty years before the birth of the International, 
Marx and Bakounin had crossed and recrossed each 
other's circle. They had always quarreled. There was a 
mutual fascination, due perhaps to an innate antagonism, 
that brought them again and again together at critical 
periods. At times there seemed a chance of reconcilia- 
tion, but they no more touched each other than imme- 


diately there flared forth the old animosity. When Ba- 
kounin left Russia in 1843, he met Proudhon and Marx 
in Paris. At that period the doctrines of all three were 
germinating. Bakounin had already written, "The de- 
sire for destruction is at the same time a creative de- 
sire." ( I ) Proudhon had begun to formulate the princi- 
ples of anarchism, and Marx the principles of socialism. 
"He was much more advanced than I was," wrote Ba- 
kounin of Marx at this period. "I knew nothing 
then of political economy, I was not yet freed from 
metaphysical abstraction, and my socialism was only in- 
stinctive. . . .It was precisely at this epoch that 
he elaborated the first fundamentals of his present sys- 
tem. We saw each other rather often, for I respected 
him deeply for his science and for his passionate and 
serious devotion, although always mingled with personal 
vanity, to the cause of the proletariat, and I sought with 
eagerness his conversation, which was always instructive 
and witty — when it was not inspired with mean hatred, 
which, too often, alas, was the case. Never, however, 
was there frank intimacy between us. Our tempera- 
ments did not allow that. He called me a sentimental 
idealist, and he was right ; I called him a vain man, per- 
fidious and artful, and I was right also." (2) This mu- 
tual dislike and even distrust subsisted to the end. 

Certain events in 1848 widened the gulf between them. 
At the news of the outbreak of the revolution in Paris, 
hundreds of the restless spirits hurried there to take a 
hand in the situation. And after the proclamation of the 
Republic they began to consider various projects of car- 
rying the revolution into their own countries. Plans were 
being discussed for organizing legions to invade foreign 
countries, and a number of the German communists en- 
tered heartily into the plan of Herwegh, the erratic Ger- 


man poet — "the iron lark" — who led a band of revolu- 
tionists into Baden. "We arose vehemently against these 
attempts to play at revolution," says Engels, speaking 
for himself and Marx. "In the state of fermenta- 
tion which then existed in Germany, to carry into our 
country an invasion which was destined to import the 
revolution by force, was to injure the revolution in 
Germany, to consolidate the governments, and . . . 
to deliver the legions over defenseless to the German 
troops." (3) Wilhelm Liebknecht, then twenty-two 
years of age, who was in favor of Herwegh's project, 
wrote afterward of Marx's opposition. Marx "under- 
stood that the plan of organizing 'foreign legions' for 
the purpose of carrying the revolution into other coun- 
tries emanated from the French bourgeois-republicans, 
and that the 'mov^patia^ had been artificially inspired 
with the twofold intention of getting rid of troublesome 
elements and of carrying off the foreign laborers whose 
competition made itself doubly felt during this grave 
business crisis." (4) 

Undeterred by Marx, Herwegh marshaled his 
"legions" and entered Baden, to be utterly crushed, ex- 
actly as Marx had foreseen. A quarrel then arose be- 
tween Marx and Bakounin over Herwegh's project. Far 
from changing Marx's mind, however, it made him sus- 
pect Bakounin as perhaps in the pay of the reactionaries. 
In any case, he made no effort to prevent the Neue 
Rheinische Zeitung from printing shortly after the fol- 
lowing: "Yesterday it was asserted that George Sand 
was in possession of papers which seriously compro- 
mised the Russian who has been banished from here, 
Michael Bakounin, and represented him as an instru- 
ment or an agent of Russia, newly enrolled, to whom is 
attributed the leading part in the recent arrest of the 


unfortunate Poles. George Sand has shown these pa- 
pers to some of her friends." (5) Marx later printed 
Bakounin's answer to these charges — which were, in fact, 
groundless — and in his letters to the New York Tribune 
(1852) even commended Bakounin for his services in the 
Dresden uprising of 1849. (6) Nevertheless, there is 
no doubt that to the end Marx believed Bakounin to be 
a tool of the enemy. These quarrels are important only 
as they are prophetic in thus early disclosing the gulf 
between Marx and Bakounin in their conception of revo- 
lutionary activity. Although profoundly revolutionary, 
Marx was also rigidly rational. He had no patience, and 
not an iota of mercy, for those who lost their heads 
and attempted to lead the workers into violent out- 
breaks that could result only in a massacre. On this 
point he would make no concessions, and anyone who at- 
tempted such suicidal madness was in Marx's mind 
either an imbecile or a paid agent provocateur. The fail- 
ure of Herwegh's project forced Bakounin to admit later 
that Marx had been right. Yet, as we know, with Ba- 
kounin's advancing years the passion for insurrections 
became with him almost a mania. 

If this quarrel between Bakounin and Marx casts a 
light upon the causes of their antagonism, a still greater 
illumination is shed by the differences between them 
which arose in 1849. Bakounin, in that year, had writ- 
ten a brochure in which he developed a program for the 
union of the revolutionary Slavs and for the destruction 
of the three monarchies, Russia, Austria, and Prussia. 
He advocated pan-Slavism, and believed that the Slavic 
people could once more be united and then federated 
into a great new nation. When Marx saw the volume, he 
wrote in the Neue Rheinische Zeitung (February 14, 
1849), "Aside from the Poles, the Russians, and perhaps 


even the Slavs of Turkey, no Slavic people has a future, 
for the simple reason that there are lacking in all the other 
Slavs the primary conditions — historical, geographical, 
political, and industrial — of independence and vital- 
ity-" (7) This cold-blooded statement infuriated Ba- 
kounin. He absolutely refused to look at the facts. Pos- 
sessed of a passion for liberty, he wanted all nations, all 
peoples — civilized, semi-civilized, or savage — to be en- 
tirely free. What had historical, geographical, political, or 
industrial conditions to do with the matter? All this is 
typical of Bakounin's revolutionary sentimentalism. He 
clashed again with Marx on very similar grounds when 
the latter insisted that only in the more advanced coun- 
tries is there a possibility of a social revolution. Mod- 
ern capitalist production, according to Marx, must at- 
tain a certain degree of development before it is possible 
for the working class to hope to carry out any really 
revolutionary project. Bakounin takes issue with him 
here. He declares his own aim to be "the complete and 
real emancipation of all the proletariat, not only of some 
countries, but of all nations, civilized and non-civi- 
lized. (8) In these declarations the differences between 
Marx and Bakounin stand forth vividly. Marx at no 
time states what he wishes. He expresses no sentiment, 
but confines himself to a cold statement of the facts as 
he sees them. Bakounin, the dreamer, the sentimentalist, 
and the revolution-maker, wants the whole world free. 
Whether or not Marx wants the same thing is not the 
question. He rigidly confines himself to what he believes 
is possible. He says certain conditions must exist before 
a people can be free and independent. Among them are 
included historical, geographical, political, and industrial 
conditions. Marx further states that, before the work- 
ing-class revolution can be successful, certain economic 


conditions must exist. Marx is not stating here conclu- 
sions which are necessarily agreeable to him. He states 
only the results of his study of history, b ased on his 
analysis of past events. In the one case we find thel 
idealist seeking to set the world violently right; in the 
other case we find the historian and the scientist — in- 
fluenced no doubt, as all men must be, by certain hopes, 
yet totally regardless of personal desire — stating the 
antecedent conditions which must exist previous to the 
birth of a new historic or economic period. 

In speaking of the antagonism between Marx and Ba- 
kounin in this earlier period, I do not mean to convey 
the impression that it was the cause of the dissensions 
that arose later. The slightest knowledge of Bakou- 
nin's philosophy anT methods'"is "enough to make one 
realizetEi/Fneither the International nor an;;^ considerable 
section of the labor or socialist movements had anything 
in c ommon wiflTtHos'eli^Seas! Certainly the thou g ht and 
policies of Marx were directly opposed to everythmg 
from first to last tliat BakounmstoodTon NotHiiig"could 
be" mb r e~^^esque thaiT the Tdea" tliatM arxism and Ba- 
kouninism could be blended, or indeed exist together, 
in any semblance of harmony. Every thought, policy, 
and method of the two clashed furiously. It would be 
impossible to conceive of two other minds that were on 
so many points such worlds apart. Both Bakounin and 
Marx instinctively felt this essential antagonism, yet the 
former wrote Marx, in December, 1868, when he was 
preparing to enter the International, assuring him that he 
had had a change of heart and that "my country, now, 
c'est r Internationale, of which you are one of the princi- 
pal founders. You see then, dear friend, that I am your 
disciple and I am proud to be it." (9) He then signs him- 
self affectionately, "Your devoted M. Bakounin." (10) 


With an olive branch such as that arrived the new 
"disciple" of Marx. He then set to work without a mo- 
ment's delay to capture the International congress which 
was to be held at Basel, September, 1869. And it was 
there that the first battle occurred. From the very mo- 
ment that the congress opened it was clear that on every 
important question there was to be a division. Most 
unexpectedly, the first struggle arose over a question 
that seemed not at all fundamental at the time, but which, 
as the later history of socialism shows, was really basic. 
The father of direct legislation, Rittinghausen, was a 
delegate to the congress from Germany. He begged the 
congress for an opportunity to present his ideas, and he 
won the support, quite naturally, of the Marxian ele- 
ments. In his preliminary statement to the congress he 
said: "You are going to occupy yourselves at length 
with the great social reforms that you think necessary in 
order to put an end to the deplorable situation of the la- 
bor world. Is it then less necessary for you to occupy 
yourselves with methods of execution by which you may 
accomplish these reforms ? I hear many among you say 
that you wish to attain your end by revolution. Well, 
comrades, revolution, as a matter of fact, accomplishes 
nothing. If you are not able to formulate, after the 
revolution, by legislation, your legitimate demands, the 
revolution will perish miserably like that of 1848. You 
will be the prey of the most violent reaction and you will 
be forced anew to suffer years of oppression and dis- 

"What, then, are the means of execution that democ- 
racy will have to employ in order to realize its ideas? 
Legislation by an individual functions only to the advan- 
tage of that individual and his family. Legislation by a 
group of capitalists, called representatives, serves only 


the interests of this class. It is only by taking their in- 
terests into their own hands, by direct legislation, that 
the people can . . . establish the reign of social jus- 
tice. I insist, then, that you put on the program of this 
congress the question of direct legislation by the peo- 
pie." (II) 

The forces led by Bakounin and Professor Hins, of 
Belgium, opposed any consideration of this question. The 
latter, in elaborating the remarks of Bakounin, declared : 
"They wish, they say, to accomplish, by representation 
or direct legislation, the transformation of the present 
governments, the work of our enemies, the bourgeois. 
They wish, in order to do this, to enter into these gov- 
ernments, and, by persuasion, by numbers, and by new 
laws, to establish a new State. Comrades, do not follow 
this line of march, for we would perish in following it in 
Belgium or in France as elsewhere. Rather let us leave 
these governments to rot away and not prop them up 
with our morality. This is the reason : the International 
is and must be a State within States. Let these States 
march on as they like, even to the point where our State 
is the strongest. Then, on their ruins, we will place ours, 
all prepared, all made ready, such as it exists in each sec- 
tion." (12) The result of this debate was that the fa- 
ther of direct legislation was not allowed time to pre- 
sent his views, and it is significant that this first clash of 
the congress resulted in a victory for the anarchists, de- 
spite all that could be done by Liebknecht and the other 

The chief question on the program was the considera- 
tion of the right of inheritance. This was the main eco- 
nomic change desired by the Alliance. For years 
Bakounin had advocated the abolition of the right of in- 
heritance as the most revolutionary of his economic de- 


mands. "The right of inheritance," declared Bakounin, 
"after having been the natural consequence of the vio- 
lent ajjpropriation of natural and social wealth, became 
later the basis of the political state and of the legal fam- 
ily. . . . It is necessary, therefore, to vote the aboli- 
tion of the right of inheritance." (13) It was left to 
George Eccarius, delegate of the Association of Tailors 
of London, to present to that congress the views of Marx 
and the General Council. The report of the General 
Council was, of course, prepared in advance, but Bakou- 
nin's views were well known, and it was intended as a 
crushing rejoinder. "Inheritance," it declared, "does not 
create that power of transferring the produce of one 
man's labor into another man's pocket — it only relates 
to the change in the individuals who yield {sic) that 
power. Like all other civil legislation, the laws of inheri- 
tance are not the cause, but the effect, the juridical conse- 
quence of the existing economical organisation of society, 
based upon private property in the means of production, 
that is to say, in land, raw material, machinery, etc. In 
the same way the right of inheritance in the slave is not 
the cause of slavery, but, on the contrary, slavery is 
the cause of inheritance in slaves. ... To proclaim 
the abolition of the right of inheritance as the starting 
point of the social revolution would only tend to lead 
the working class away from the true point of attack 
against present society. It would be as absurd a thing 
as to abolish the laws of contract between buyer and 
seller, while continuing the present state of exchange of 
commodities. It would be a thing false in theory and 
reactionary in practice." (14) Despite the opposition of 
the Marxians at the congress, the proposition of Bakou- 
nin received thirty-two votes as against twenty-three 
given to the proposition of the General Council. As thir- 


teen of the delegates abstained from voting, Bakounin's 
resolution did not obtain an absolute majority, and the 
question was thus left undecided. 

Another important discussion at the congress was on 
landed property. Some of the delegates were opposed to 
the collective ownership of land, believing that it should 
be divided into small sections and left to the peasants 
to cultivate. Others advocated a kind of communism, in 
which associations of agriculturists were to work the 
soil. Still others believed that the State should own the 
land and lease it to individuals. Indeed, almost every 
phase of the question was touched, including the means 
of obtaining the land from the present owners and of 
distributing it among the peasants or of owning it col- 
lectively while allowing them the right to cultivate it for 
their profit. On this subject, again, Eccarius presented 
the views of Marx. To Bakounin, who expressed his 
terror of the State, no matter of what character, Ec- 
carius said "that his relations with the French have 
doubtless communicated to him this conception (for it 
appears that the French workingmen can never think of 
the State without seeing a Napoleon appear, accompanied 
by a flock of cannon), and he replied that the State can 
be reformed by the coming of the working class into 
power. All great transformations have been inaugurated 
by a change in the form of landed property. The al- 
lodial system was replaced by the feudal system, the 
feudal system by modern private ownership, and the so- 
cial transformation to which the new state of things 
tends will be inaugurated by the abolition of individual 
property in land. As to compensations, that will depend 
on the circumstances. If the transformation is made 
peacefully, the present owners will be indemnified. 
. . . If the owners of slaves had yielded when Lin- 


coin was elected, they would have received a compensa- 
tion for their slaves. Their resistance led to the abolition 
of slavery without compensation . . ." (15) The 
congress, after debating the question at length, contented 
itself with voting the general proposition that "society 
has the right to abolish private property in land and to 
make land the property of the community." (16) 

The la st import antjquestion cons idered by the congress 
was that dealing with trade unions. The debate arSnsed: 
little interest^" although EieBKneclir~qpeiie3~ffig"'^lscvrs- 
sion. He pointed out the great "exteiisioh oFtf ade-union 
organization in England, Germany, and America, and he 
tried to impress upon the congress the necessity for vastly 
extending this form of solidarity. And, indeed, it seems 
to have been generally admitted that trade-union organi- 
zation was necessary. No practical proposals were, how- 
ever, made for actually developing such organizations. 
The interesting part of the discussion came upon the 
function of trade: unionism in future society. The so- 
cialists were IMe concerned, as to what mighLJiappinlo 
the trade unions in future society, but Pro fess or Hins 
6u'ft^fled"a^that■c61tgtegs the program of the modern syit- 
dicalists. It is, tKerefbre, especially interesting" to "read 
what~RiofessQr.Hins_saidas.eaxl^as iSfigi^^^ocieties de 
resistance ( trade u nions) ^ill subsist after the suppres- 
sion of wages, not in name, but in deed! They will then 
be the organization of labor, . . . 6pS;^ng~a vasT 
distribulToirof^abor Tr'bm" onV end ofjthe jvorld To, the^ 
otKr. TK^ will replace the. ancient politic al systems : 
in place"of "a' confused and heterogeneous re£resentation, 
there will be the representatio n of la^nr. 

""They will be at the same time agents of decentraliza- 
tion, for the centers will differ according to the indus- 
tries which will form, in some manner, each one a sep- 


arate State, and will prevent forever the return to the 
ancient form of centralized State, which will not, how- 
ever, prevent another form of government for local pur- 
poses. As is evident, if we are reproached for being in- 
different to every form of government, it is . . . be- 
cause we detest them all in the same way, and because we 
believe that it is only on their ruins that a society con- 
forming to the principles of justice can be estab- 
lished." * (17) 

The congress at Basel was the turning point in the 
brief history of the International. Although the Marx- 
ists were reluctant to admit it, the Bakouninists had won 
a complete victory on every important issue. Some of 
the decisions future congresses might remedy, but in re- 
fusing even to discuss the question of direct legislation 

* In the English report of the discussion Professor Hins's 
remarks are summarized as follows : "Hins said he could not 
agree with those who looked upon trade societies as mere strike 
and wages' societies, nor was he in favor of having central com- 
mittees made up of all trades. The present trades unions would 
some day overthrow the present state of political organization 
altogether; they represented the social and political organization 
of the future. The whole laboring population would range it- 
self, according to occupation, into different groups, and this 
would lead to a new political organization of society. He 
wanted no intermeddling of the State; they had enough of that 
in Belgium already. As to the central committees, every trad" 
ought to have its central committee at the principal seat of 
manufacture. The central committee of the cotton trades ought 
to be at Manchester; that of the silk trades at Lyons, etc. He 
did not consider it a disadvantage that trade unions kept aloof 
more or less from politics, at least in his country. By trying to 
reform the State, or to take part in its councils, they would vir- 
tually acknowledge its right of existence. Whatever the Eng- 
lish, the Swiss, the Germans, and the Americans might hope to 
accomplish by means of the present political State the Belgians 
repudiated theirs."— pp. 31-2. 


many of the delegates clearly showed their determination 
to have nothing to do with politics or with any movement 
aiming at the conquest of political power. In all the 
discussions the anarchist tendencies of the congress were 
unmistakable, and the immense gulf between the Marx- 
ists and the Bakouninists was laid bare. The very foun- 
dation principles upon which the International was based 
had been overturned. Political action was to be abafl^ 
doned, while the discussion on trade unions introduced ' 
for the first time in the International the idea of a purely 
economic struggle and a conception of future society in 
which groups of producers, and not the State or the com- 
munity, should own the tools of production. This syn- 
dicalist conception of socialism was not new. Developed 
for thejSrst time by Robert Xteffl»io.-JES33*Jit_hgd Jsd ■ 
I the working classes into the _ most vi olent and bitter / 
(Strikes, that ended jn disaster for all partidBaiitS~— BQrnT 
jagain in 1869, it was destined, to lie do rmant for thirtW 
I years," then to bejtaken up once, more — this time w ith 
' iinmehse enffiiisiasm — ^by the French trade unions. -'^ 
""^^■gedless- to 'gay,"lhe decisive victory" of "fHlTBafeou-'! 
ninists at Basel was excessively annoying and humiliat*'^ ■ 
ing to Marx. He did not attend in person, but it was 
evident before the congress that he fully expected that 
his forces would, on that occasion, destroy root and 
branch the economic and political fallacies of Bakounin. 
He rather welcomed the discussion of the differences be- 
tween the program of the Alliance and that of the Inter- 
national, in order that Eccarius, Liebknecht, and others 
might demolish, once and for all, the reactionary pro- 
posals of Bakounin. To Marx, much of the program 
of the Alliance seemed a remnant of eighteenth-century 
philosophy, while the rest was pure utopianism, consist- 
ing of unsound and impractical reforms, mixed with 


atheism and schoolboy declamation. Altogether, the poli- 
cies and projects of Bakounin seemed so vulnerable that 
the General Council evidently felt that little preparation 
was necessary in order to defeat them. They seemed to 
have forgotten, for the moment, that Bakounin was an 
old and experienced conspirator. In any case, he had 
left no stone unturned to obtain control of the congress. 
Week by week, previous to the congress, I'Egalite, the 
organ of the Swiss federation, had published articles by 
Bakounin which, while professedly explaining the prin- 
ciples of the International, were in reality attacking them ; 
and most insidiously Bakounin's own program was pre- 
sented as the traditional position of the organization. 
Liberty, fraternity, and equality were, of course, called 
into service. The treason of certain working-class poli- 
ticians was pointed out as the natural and inevitable re- 
sult of political action, while to those who had given 
little thought to economic theory the abolition of in- 
heritances seemed the final word. Nor did Bakounin 
limit his efforts to his pen. All sections of the Alliance 
undertook to see that friends of Bakounin were sent as 
delegates to the congress, and it was charged that cre- 
dentials were obtained in various underhanded ways. 
However that may have been, the "practical," "cold- 
blooded" Marx was completely outwitted by his "senti- 
mental" and "visionary" antagonist. Instead of a great 
victory, therefore, the Marxists left the congress of Basel 
utterly dejected, and !pccarius is reported to have said, 
"Marx will be terribly annoyed." (18) 

That Marx was annoyed is to put it with extraordi- 
nary moderation, and from that moment the fight on Ba- 
kouninism, anarchism, and terrorism developed to, a 
white heat. Immediately after the adjournment of the 
congress, Moritz Hess, a close friend of Marx and a 


delegate to the congress, published in the Reveil of Paris 
what he called "the secret history" of the congress, in 
which he declared that "between the collectivists of the 
International and the Russian communists [meaning the 
Bakouninists] there was all the diflference which exists 
between civilization and barbarism, between liberty and 
despotism, between citizens condemning every form of 
violence and slaves addicted to the use of brutal 
force." (19) Even this gives but a faint idea of the bit- 
terness of the controversy. Marx, Engels, Liebknecht, 
Hess, Outine, the General Council in London, and every 
newspaper under the control of the Marxists began to 
assail Bakounin and his circle. They no longer confined 
themselves to a denunciation of the "utopian and bour- 
geois" character of the anarchist philosophy. They went 
into the past history of Bakounin, revived all the accu- 
sations that had been made against him, and exposed 
every particle of evidence obtainable concerning his 
"checkered" career as a revolutionist. It will be remem- 
bered that it was in 1869 that Nechayeff appeared in 
Switzerland. When the Marxists got wind of him and 
his doctrine, their rage knew no bounds. And later they 
obtained and published in L'Alliance de la Democratie 
Socialiste the material from which I have already quoted 
extensively in my first chapter. 

No useful purpose, however, would be served in deal- 
ing with the personal phases of the struggle. Bakounin 
became so irate at the attacks upon him, several of which 
happened to have been written by Jews, that he wrote 
an answer entitled "Study Upon the German Jews." He 
feared to attack Marx ; and this "Study," while avoiding 
a personal attack, sought to arouse a racial prejudice 
that would injure him. He writes to Herzen, a month 
after the congress at Basel, that he fully realizes that 


Marx is "the instigator and the leader of all this calum- 
nious and infamous polemic." (20) He was reluctant, 
however, to attack him personally, and even refers to 
Marx and Lassalle as "these two Jewish giants," but 
besides them, he adds, "there was and is a crowd of 
Jewish pigmies." (21 ) "Nevertheless," he writes, "it may 
happen, and very shortly, too, that I shall enter into con- 
flict with him, not over any personal offense, of course, 
but over a question of principle, regarding State com- 
munism, of which he himself and the English and Ger- 
man parties which he directs are the most ardent par- 
tisans. Then it will be a fight to the finish. But there 
is a time for everything, and the hour for this struggle 
has not yet sounded. ... Do you not see that all 
these gentlemen who are our enemies are forming a pha- 
lanx, which must be disunited and broken up in order to 
be the more easily routed ? You are more erudite than I ; 
you know, therefore, better than I who was the first to 
take for principle: Divide and rule. If at present I 
should undertake an open war against Marx himself, 
three-quarters of the members of the International would 
turn against me, and I would be at a disadvantage, for I 
would have lost the ground on which I must stand. But 
by beginning this war with an attack against the rabble 
by which he is surrounded, I shall have the majority on 
my side. . , . But, . . . if he wishes to consti- 
tute himself the defender of their cause, it is he who 
would then declare war openly. In this case, I shall 
take the field also and I shall play the star role." (22) 

This was written in October, 1869, a month after the 
Basel congress. On the ist of January, 1870, the Gen- 
eral Council at London sent a private communication to 
all sections of the International, and on the 28th of 
March it was followed by another. These, together with 


various circulars dealing with questions of principle, but 
all consisting of attacks upon Bakounin personally or 
upon his doctrines, finally goaded him into open war 
upon Marx, the General Council, all their doctrines, and 
even upon the then forming socialist party of Germany, 
with Bebel and Liebknecht at its head. During the year 
1870 Bakounin was preparing for the great controversy, 
but his friends of Lyons interrupted his work by calling 
him there to take part in the uprising of that year. He 
hastened to Lyons, but, as we know, he was soon forced 
to flee and conceal himself in Marseilles. It was there, 
in the midst of the blackest despair, that Bakounin wrote : 
"I have no longer any faith in the Revolution in France. 
This nation is no longer in the least revolutionary. The 
people themselves have become doctrinaire, as insolent 
and as bourgeois as the bourgeois . . . The bour- 
geois are loathsome. They are as savage as they are 
stupid — and as the police blood flows in their veins — ^they 
should be called policemen and attorneys-general in em- 
bryo. I am going to reply to their infamous calumnies 
by a good little book in which I shall give everything and 
everybody its proper name. I leave this country with 
deep despair in my heart." (23) He then set to work at 
last to state systematically his own views and to anni- 
hilate utterly those of the socialists. Many of these doc- 
uments are only fragmentary. Some were started and 
abandoned; others ended in hopeless confusion. With 
the most extraordinary gift of inspirited statement, he 
passes in review every phase of history, leaping from one 
peak to another of the great periods, pointing his lessons, 
issuing his warnings, but all the time throwing at the 
reader such a Niagara of ideas and arguments that he is 
left utterly dazed and bewildered as by some startling 
military display or the rushing here and there of a mili- 


tary maneuver. In Lettres a un Frangais; Manuscrit de 
114 Pages, ecrit a Marseille; Lettre a Esquiros; Pream- 
bule pour la Seconde Livraison de I' Empire Knout 0- 
Germanique; Avertissement pour I'Empire Knouto-Ger- 
manique; Au Journal La Liberie, de Bruxelles; and 
Fragment formant une Suite de I'Empire Knouto-Ger- 
manique, he returns again and again to the charge, al- 
ways seeking to deal some fatal blow to Marxian social- 
ism, but never apparently satisfying himself that he has 
a'ccomplished his task. He touches the border of prac- 
tical criticism of the socialist program in the fragment 
entitled Lettres a un Frangais. It ends, however, before 
the task is done. Again he takes it up in the Manuscrit 
ecrit a Marseille. But here also, as soon as he arrives 
at the point of annihilating the socialists, his task is dis- 
continued. In truth, he himself seems to have realized 
the inconclusive character of his writings, as he refused 
in some cases to complete them and in other cases to 
publish them. Nevertheless, we find in various places of 
his fragmentary writings not only a statement of his 
own views, but his entire critique upon socialism. 

As I have made clear enough, I think, in my first chap- 
ter, there are in Bakounin's writings two main ideas put 
forward again and again, dressed in innumerable forms 
and supported by an inexhaustible variety of arguments. 
These ideas are based upon his antagonism to religion 
and to government. It was always Dieu et I'Etat that 
he was fighting, and not until both the ideas and the insti- 
tutions which had grown up in support of "these mon- 
strous oppressions" had been destroyed and swept from 
the earth could there arise, thought Bakounin, a free so- 
ciety, peopled with happy and emancipated human souls. 
When one has once obtained this conception of Bakou- 
nin's fundamental views, there is little necessity for deal- 


ing with the infinite number of minor points upon which 
he was forced to attack the men and movements of his 
time. On the one hand, he was assailing Mazzini, whose 
every move in life was actuated by his intense re- 
ligious and political faith, while, on the other hand, he 
was attacking Marx as the modern Moses handing down 
to the enslaved multitudes his table of infamous laws as 
the foundation for a new tyranny, that of State social- 
ism. In 1 87 1 Bakounin ceased all maneuvering. Bring- 
ing out his great guns, he began to bombard both Maz- 
zini and Marx. Never has polemic literature seen such 
another battle. With a weapon in each hand, turning 
from the one to the other of his antagonists, he battled, 
as no man ever before battled, to crush "these enemies 
of the entire human race." 

There is, of course, no possibility of adequately sum- 
marizing, in such limited space as I have allotted to it, 
the thought of one who traversed the history of the en- 
tire world of thought and action in pursuit of some 
crushing argument against the socialism of Marx. This 
perverted form of socialism, Bakounin. maintained, con- 
templated the establishment of a communisme autoritaire, 
or State socialism. "The State," he says, "having be- 
come the sole owner — at the end of a certain period of 
transition which will be necessary in order to transform 
society, without too great economic and political shocks, 
from the present organization of bourgeois privilege to 
the future organization of official equality for all — the 
State will also be the sole capitalist, the banker, the 
money lender, the organizer, the director of all the na- 
tional work, and the distributor of its products. Such 
is the ideal, the fundameatal principle of modern com- 
munism." (24) This is, of all Bakounin's criticisms of 
socialism, the one that has had the greatest vitality. It 


has gone the round of the world as a crushing blow to 
socialist ideals. The same thought has been repeated 
by every politician, newspaper, and capitalist who has un- 
dertaken to refute socialism. And every socialist will 
admit that of all the attempts to misrepresent socialism 
and to make it abhorrent to most people the idea ex- 
pressed in these words of Bakounin has been the most 
effective. To state thus the ideal of socialism is suffi- 
cient in most cases to end all argument. Add to this 
program military discipline for the masses, barracks for 
homes, and a ruling bureaucracy, and you have complete 
the terrifying picture that is held up to the workers of 
every country, even to-day, as the nefarious, world-de- 1 
stropng design of the socialists. V 

It is, therefore, altogether proper to inquire if these 
were in reality the aims of the Marxists. Many sincere 
opponents of socialism actually believe that these are the 
ends sought, while the casual reader of socialist litera- 
ture may see much that appears to lead directly to the 
dreadful State tyranny that Bakounin has pictured. But 
did Marx actually advocate State socialism? In the 
Communist Manifesto Marx proposed a series of re- 
forms that the State alone was capable of instituting. 
He urged that many of the instruments of production 
should be centralized in the hands of the State. More- 
over, nothing is clearer than his prophecy that the work- 
ing class "will use its political supremacy to wrest, by 
degrees, all capital from the bourgeoisie, to centralize 
all instruments of production in the hands of the 
State." (25) Indeed, in this program, as in all others 
that have developed out of it, the end of socialism would 
seem to be State ownership. "With trusts or without," 
writes Engels, "the official representative of capitalist 
society — the State — ^will ultimately have to undertake the 


direction of production." Commenting himself upon 
this statement, he adds in a footnote: "I say 'have to.' 
For only when the means of production and distribution 
have actually outgrown the form of management by 
joint-stock companies, and when, therefore, the taking 
them over by the State has become economically inevita- 
ble, only then — even if it is the State of to-day that ef- 
fects this — is there an economic advance, the attainment 
of another step preliminary to the taking over of all 
productive forces by society itself." "This necessity," 
he continues, "for conversion into State property is felt 
first in the great institutions for intercourse and com- 
munication — ^the post-ofEce, the telegraphs, the rail- 
ways." (26) 

Here is the entire position in a nutshell. But Engels 
says the State will "have to." Thus Engels and Marx 
are not stating necessarily what they desire. And it 
must not be forgotten that in all such statements both 
were outlining only what appeared to them to be a natu- 
ral and inevitable evolution. In State ownership they 
saw an outcome of the necessary centralization of capital 
and its growth into huge monopolies. Society would be 
forced to use the power of the State to control, and 
eventually to own, these menacing aggregations of cap- 
ital in the hands of a few men. Both Marx and Engels 
saw clearly enough that State monopoly does not destroy 
the capitalistic nature of the productive forces. "The 
modern State, no matter what its form, is essentially a 
capitalist machine . . . The more it proceeds to the 
taking over of productive forces, ... the more citi- 
zens does it exploit. The workers remain wage work- 
ers — proletarians. The capitalist relation is not done 
away with. It is rather brought to a head. But, brought 
to a head, it topples over. State ownership of the pro- 


diictive forces is not the solution of the conflict, but con- 
cealed within it are the technical conditions that form the 
elements of that solution." (27) 

State ownership, then, was ript_considered h^ Marx 
anJ Engels in itself a splution_ofjthe. problem. _li. is only 
a ^ecessary pr eliminary to the solution. The essential 
step, either sub sequent^ or precedent, is the capture oTpo- 
I itical power by the working class. By this act the means 
of production are freed "from the character of capital 
they have thus far borne, ..." and their "socialized 
character" is given "complete freedom to work itself 
out." (28) "Socialized production upon a predeter- 
mined plan becomes henceforth possible. The develop- 
ment of production makes the existence of different 
classes of society thenceforth an anachronism. In pro- 
portion as anarchy in social production vanishes, the po- 
litical authority of the State dies out. Man, at last the 
master of his own form of social organization, becomes 
at the same time the lord over Nature, his own master — 

"To accomplish this act of universal emancipation is 
the histqncALmission^f jthe^modei^^ proletariat. To 
tHoroughly compreh end the historical conditions and thus 
the ve ry nature o FlEis act, to impart tcrthe new op- 
pressedproktariagjcla^^ a fu[ll knowledge of the.jqgndi- 
tibns and of the meaning of, the momentous act it is 
called upon to. accomplish, this is..the task of_theJheoreti- 
cal expressionjof^Jhe proletarian movement, scientific 
socialTsiSi.^ (29) 

Engels declares that the State, such as we have known 
it in the past, will die out "as soon as there is no longer 
any social class to be held in subjection; as soon as class 
rule, and the individual struggle for existence based 
upon our present anarchy in production, with the colli- 


sions and excesses arising from these, are removed, 
nothing more remains to be repressed, and a special re- 
pressive force, a State, is no longer necessary. The 
first act by virtue of which the State really constitutes 
itself the representative of the whole of society — the tak- 
ing possession of the means of production in the name 
of society — ^this is, at the same time, its last independent 
act as a State. State interference in social relations be- 
comes, in one domain after another, superfluous, and 
then dies out of itself ; the government of persons is re- 
placed by the administration of things, and by the con- 
duct of processes of production. The State is not 'abol- 
ished.' It dies out. This gives the measure of the value 
of the phrase 'a free State,' both as to its justifiable use 
at times by agitators, and as to its ultimate scientific in- 
sufficiency; and also of the demands of the so-called 
anarchists for the abolition of the State out of 
hand." (30) 

This conception of the role of the State is one that no 
anarchist can comprehend. He is unwilling to admit 
that social evolution necessarily leads through State so- 
cialism to industrial democracy, or even that such an 
evolution is possible. To him the State seems to have a 
corporeal, material existence of its own. It is a tyranni- 
cal machine that exists above all classes and wields a 
legal, military, and judicial power all its own. That the 
State is only an agency for representing in certain fields 
the power of a dominant economic class — this is some- 
thing the anarchist will not admit. In fact, Bakounin 
seems to have been utterly mystified when Eccarius an- 
swered him at Basel in these words : "The State can be 
reformed by the coming of the working class into 
power." (31) That the State is but a committee for 
managing the common affairs of the capitalist class can 


neither be granted nor understood by the anarchists. 
Nor can it be comprehended that, when the capitalist 
class has no affairs of its own to manage, the coercive 
character of the State will gradually disappear. State 
ownership undermines and destroys the economic power 
of private capitalists. When the railroads, the mines, 
the forests, and other great monopolies are taken out of 
their hands, their control over the State is by this much 
diminished. The only power they possess to control the 
State resides in their economic power, and anything that 
weakens that tends to destroy the class character of the 
State itself. The inherent weakness of Bakounin's en- 
tire philosophy lay in this fact, that it begins with the 
necessity of abolishing God and the State, and that it can 
never get beyond that or away from that. And, as a 
necessary consequence, Bakounin had to oppose every 
measure that looked toward any compromise with the 
State, or that might enable the working class to exercise 
any influence in or through the State. 

When, therefore, the German party at its congress at 
Eisenach demanded the suffrage and direct legislation, 
when it declared that political liberty is the most urgent 
preliminary condition for the economic emancipation of 
the working class, Bakounin could see nothing revolu- 
tionary in such a program. When, furthermore, the 
party declared that the social question is inseparable 
from the political question and that the problems of our 
economic life could be solved only in a democratic State, 
Bakounin, of course, was forced to oppose such here- 
sies with all his power. And these were indeed the 
really vital questions, upon which the anarchists and the 
socialists could not be reconciled. It is in his Lettres 
a un Frangais, written just after the failure of his own 
"practical" efforts at Lyons, that Bakounin undertakes 


his criticism of the program of the German social- 
ists. Preparatory to this task, he first terrifies his 
French readers with the warning that if the German 
army, then at their doors, should conquer France, it 
would result in the destruction of French socialism (by 
which he means anarchism), in the utter degradation 
and complete slavery of the French people, and make it 
possible for the Knout of Germany and Russia to fall 
upon the back of all Europe. "If, in this terrible mo- 
ment, . . . [France] does not prefer the death of all 
her children and the destruction of all her goods, the 
burning of her villages, her cities, and of all her houses 
to slavery under the yoke of the Prussians, if she does 
not destroy, by means of a popular and revolutionary 
uprising, the power of the innumerable German armies 
which, victorious on all sides up to the present, threaten 
her dignity, her liberty, and even her existence, if she 
does not become a grave for all those six hundred thou- 
sand soldiers of German despotism, if she does not op- 
pose them with the one means capable of conquering and 
destroying them under the present circumstances, if she 
does not reply to this insolent invasion by the social revo- 
lution no less ruthless and a thousand times more menac- 
ing — it is certain, I maintain, that then France is lost, 
her masses of working people will be slaves, and French 
socialism will have lived its life." (32) 

Approaching his subject in this dramatic manner, 
Bakounin turns to examine the degenerate state of so- 
cialism in Italy, Switzerland, and Germany to see "what 
will be the chances of working-class emancipation in all 
the rest of Europe." (33) In the first country socialism 
is only in its infancy. The Italians are wholly ignorant 
of the true causes of their misery. They are crushed, 
maltreated, and dying of hunger. They are "led blindly 


by the liberal and radical bourgeois." (34) Altogether, 
there is no immediate hope of socialism there. In 
Switzerland the people are asleep. "If the human world 
were on the point of dying, the Swiss would not resusci- 
tate it." (35) Only in Germany is socialism making 
headway, and Bakounin undertakes to examine this so- 
cialism and to put it forward as a horrible example. To 
be sure, the German workers are awakening, but they 
are under the leadership of certain cunning politicians, 
who have abandoned all revolutionary ideas, and are now 
undertaking to reform the State, hoping that that could 
be done as a result of "a great peaceful and legal agita- 
tion of the working class." (36) The very name Lieb- 
knecht had taken for his paper, the Volksstaat, was in- 
famous in Bakounin's eyes, while all the leaders of the 
labor party had become merely appendages to "their 
friends of the bourgeois Volkspartei." (37) He then 
passes in review the program of the German socialists, 
and points to their aim of establishing a democratic 
State by the "direct and secret suffrage for all men" and 
its guidance by direct legislation, as the utter abandon- 
ment of every revolutionary idea. He dwells upon the 
folly of the suffrage and of every effort to remodel, re- 
cast, and change the State, as "purely political and bour- 
geois." (38) 

Democracies and republics are no less tyrannical than 
monarchies. The suffrage cannot alter them. In Fin- 
land, Switzerland, and America, he declares^ the masses 
iiowTi'ave poIitical~power7 yeFTli^ remain in the deepest 
d ^ths of misery. tTniversaT suSfage"Ts only a new su- 
perstition7~while i0[ie"referendum," already existing" in 
Switzerland, has failed utterly to improve the condition 
ortFepeopTe. The working-class slaves, even in the most 
democratic countries, "have neither the instruction, nor 


the leisure, nor the .independence nece ssary to exercise 
fireely'aiig-'Witt i iaH-iniow l"edge" oj the case their right s" 
as citizens." They have. In the most democratic countries, 
wKicITare governed by representatives elected by all the 
people, a ruling day or rather a day of Saturnalian cele- 
bration: that is election day. Then the bourgeois, their 
oppressors, their every-day exploiters, and their masters, 
come to them, with hats off, talk to them of equality and 
of fraternity, and call them the ruling people, of whom 
they (the bourgeois) are only very humble servants, the 
representatives of their will. This day over, fraternity 
and equality evaporate in smoke, the bourgeois become 
bourgeois once more, and the proletariat, the sovereign 
people, remain slaves. 

"Such is the real truth about the system of representa- 
tive democracy, so much praised by the radical bour- 
geois, even when it is amended, completed, and devel- 
oped, with a popular intention, by the referendum or by 
that 'direct legislation of the people' which is extolled by 
a German school that wrongly calls itself socialist. For 
very nearly two years, the referendum has been a part of 
the constitution of the canton of Zurich, and up to this 
time it has given absolutely no results. The people there 
are called upon to vote, by yes or by no, on all the im- 
portant laws which are presented to them by the repre- 
sentative bodies. They could even grant them the in- 
itiative without real liberty winning the least advan- 
tage." (39) 

"""TFis' a "discouraging picture that Bakounin draws here 
of the ignorance and stupidity of the people as they are 
led in every election to vote their enemies into power. 
What, then, is to be done ? What shall these hordes of 
the illiterate and miserable do? If by direct legislation 
they cannot even vote laws in their own interest, how. 


then, will it be possible for them ever to improve their 
condition? Such questions do not in the least disturb 
Bakounin. He has one answer, Revolution ! As he said 
in the beginning, so he repeats : "To escape its wretched 
lot, the populace has three ways, two imaginary and one 
real. The first two are the rum shop and the church, 
. . . the third is the social revolution." (40) "A cure 
is possible only through the social revolution," (41) that 
is, through "the destruction of all institutions of inequal- 
ity, and the establishment of economic and social equal- 
ity." (42) _ _ .^,^, 

However, if Bakounin's idea of the sooal revoltrttSii 
never altered, the metljods by which it was to be carried 
out suffered a change as a result of his experience in the 
International. In 1871 he no longer advocated, openly 
at any rate, secret conspiracies, the "loosening of evil 
passions," or some vague "unchaining of the hydra." He 
begins then to oppose to political action what he calls 
economic action. (43) In the fragment — not published 
during Bakounin's life — the Protestation de I' Alliance, he 
covers for the hundredth time his arguments against the 
Volksstaat, which is a "ridiculous contradiction, a fiction, 
a lie." (44) "The State . . . will always be an in- 
stitution of domination and of exploitation ... a 
permanent source of slavery and of misery." (45) How , 
then, shall the State be destroyed ? Bakounin^_answer . 
is "firstTby the organization~anJ"theTeaeraHon of strike 
funds "^nd the International "soIIHarity of "strikes; sec- 
ondly, by the"organization and "mternational federation of 
traarUfiioiTr; andHastJyHT the spontaneous 'and direct 
development of philosophical arid sociological ideas in the 
International. ... 

■"Let us now consider these three ways in their special 
action, dittering one trom aTtnyrtlCTrH3iJtr-as-I--have~3-ust 


said, inseparable, and let us commence with the organi - 
zaHoiTof* strike funds and striJces. 

"^Strlke funds have "foFtheir sole object to provide 
the necessary money in order to make possible the costly 
organization and maintenance of strikes. And the strike 
is the beginning of the social war of the proletariat 
against the bourgeoisie, while still within the limits of 
legality.* Strikes are a valuable weapon in this two- 
fold connection; first, because they electrify the masses, 
give fresh impetus to their moral energy, and awaken 
in their hearts the profound antagonism which exists be- 
tween their interests and those of the bourgeoisie, by 
showing them ever clearer the abyss which from this 
time irrevocably separates them from that class; and, 
second, because they contribute in large measure to 
provoke and to constitute among the workers of all 
trades, of all localities, and of all countries the con- 
sciousness and the fact itself of solidarity: a double ac- 
tion, the one negative and the other positive, which tends 
to constitute directly the new world of the proletariat 
by opposing it, almost absolutely, to the bourgeois 
world." (46) 

In another place he says: "Once this solidarity is 
seriously accepted and firmly established, it brings forth 
all the rest — all the principles — ^the most sublime and the 
most subversive of the International, the most destruc- 
tive of religion, of juridical right, and of the State, of 
authority divine as well as human — in a word, the most 
revolutionary from the socialist point of view, being 
nothing but the natural and necessary developments of 
this economic solidarity. And the immense practical ad- 

* These are almost the exact words that Aristide Briand uses 
in his argument for the general strike. See "La Grdve Gen- 
erale," compiled by Lagardelle, p. 95. 


vantage of the trade sections over the central sections 
consists precisely in this — that these developments and 
these principles are demonstrated to the workers not by 
theoretical reasoning, but by the living and tragic ex- 
perience of a struggle which each day becomes larger, 
more profound, and more terrible. In such a way that 
the worker who is the least instructed, the least pre- 
pared, the most gentle, always dragged further by the 
very consequences of this conflict, ends by recognizing 
himself to be a revolutionist, an anarchist, and an athe- 
ist, without often knowing himself how he has become 
such." (47) 

This is as far as Bakounin gets in the statement of his 
new program of action, as this article, like many others, 
was discontinued and thrown aside at the moment when 
he comes to clinching his argument. The mountain, 
however, had labored, and this was its mouse. It is 
chiefly remarkable as a forecast of the methods adopted 
by the syndicalists a quarter of a century later. Never- 
theless, one cannot escape the thought that Bakounin's 
advocacy of a purely economic struggle was only a last 
desperate effort on his part to discover some method of 
action, aside from his now discredited riots and insur- 
rections, that could serve as an effective substitute for 
political action. In reality, Bakounin found himself in a 
vicious circle. Again and again he tried to find his way 
out, but invariably he returned to his starting point. In 
despair he tore to pieces his manuscript, immediately, 
however, to start a new one; then once more to rush 
round the circle that ended nowhere. 

Marx and Engels ignored utterly the many and varied 
assaults that Bakounin made upon their theoretical views. 
They were not the least concerned over his attacks upon 
their socialism. They had not invented it, and economic 


evolution was determining its form. It was not, indeed, 
until 1875 that Engels deals with the tendencies to State 
socialism, and then it was in answer to Dr. Eugene 
Duehring, privat docent at Berlin University, who had 
just announced that he had become "converted" to social- 
ism. Like many another distinguished convert, he imme- 
diately began to remodel the whole theory and to create 
what he supposed were new and original doctrines of his 
own. But no sooner were they put in print than they 
were found to be a restatement of the old and choicest 
formulas of Proudhon and Bakounin. Engels there- 
fore took up the cudgels once again, and, no doubt to the 
stupefaction of Duehring, denied that property is rob- 
bery, (48) that slaves are kept in slavery by force, (49) 
and that the root of social and economic inequality is po- 
litical tyranny. (50) Furthermore, he deplored this 
method of interpreting history, and pointed out that cap- 
italism would exist "if we exclude the possibility of force, 
robbery, and cheating absolutely ..." Further- 
more, "the monopolization of the means of production 
. . . in the hands of a single class few in numbers 
. . . rests on purely economic grounds without rob- 
bery, force, or any intervention of politics or the gov- 
ernment being necessary." To say that property rests on 
force "merely serves to obscure the understanding of 
the real development of things." (51) I mention Engels' 
argument in answer to Dr. Duehring, because word for 
word it answers also Bakounin. Of course, Bakounin 
was a much more difficult antagonist, because he could 
not be pinned down to any systematic doctrines or 
to any clear and logical development or statement 
of his thought. Indeed, Marx and Engels seemed more 
amused than concerned and simply treated his essays as 
a form of "hyper-revolutionary dress-parade oratory," 


to use a phrase of Liebknecht's. They ridiculed him as 
an "amorphous pan-destroyer," and made no attempt to 
refute his really intangible social and economic theories. 
However, they met Bakounin's attacks on the Inter- 
national at every point. On the method of organization 
which Bakounin advocated, namely, that of a federalism 
of autonomous groups, which was to be "in the present 
a faithful image of future society," Marx replied that 
nothing could better suit the enemies of the International 
than to see such anarchy reign amidst the workers. Fur- 
thermore, when Bakounin advocated insurrections, up- 
risings, and riots, or even indeed purely economic action 
as a substitute for political action, Marx undertook ex- 
traordinary measures to deal finally with Bakounin and 
his program of action. A conference was therefore 
called of the leading spirits of the International, to be 
held in London in September, 1871. The whole of Ba- 
kounin's activity was there discussed, and a series of 
resolutions was adopted by the conference to be sent to 
every section of the International movement. A number 
if these resolutions dealt directly with Bakounin and the 
Alliance, which it was thought still existed, despite Ba- 
kounin's statement that it had been dissolved.* But by 
far the most important work of the conference was a res- 

* One of the resolutions prohibited the formation of sectarian 
.jToups or separatist bodies within the International, such as 
the Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste, that pretended "to 
accomplish special missions, distinct from the common purposes 
of the Association." Another resolution dealt with what was 
called the "split" among the workers in the French-speaking 
part of Switzerland. Still another resolution formally declared 
that the International had nothing in common with the infamies 
of Nechayeff, who had fraudulently usurped and exploited the 
name of the International. Furthermore, Outine was instructed 
to prepare a report from the Russian journals on the work of 


olution dealing with the question of political action. It 
is perhaps as important a document as was issued during 
the life of the International, and it stands as the answer 
of Marx to what Bakounin called economic action and 
to what the syndicalists now call direct action. The 
whole International organization is here pleaded with to 
maintain its faith in the efficacy of political means. Po- 
litical action is pointed out as the fundamental principle 
of the organization, and, in order to give authority to this 
plea, the various declarations that had been made dur- 
ing the life of the International were brought together. 
Once again, the old motif of the Communist Manifesto 
appeared, and every effort was made to give it the au- 
thority of a positive law. Although rather long, the reso- 
lution is too important a document not to be printed 
here almost in full. 

"Considering the following passage of the preamble 
to the rules : 'The economic emancipation of the work- 
ing classes is the great end to which every political move- 
ment ought to be subordinate as a means;' 

"That the Inaugural Address of the International 
Working Men's Association (1864) states: 'The lords 
of land and the lords of capital will always use their po- 
litical privileges for the defense and perpetuation of their 
economic monopolies. So far from promoting, they will 
continue to lay every possible impediment in the way of 
the emancipation of labor ... To conquer political 
power has therefore become the great duty of the work- 
ing classes ;' 

"That the Congress of Lausanne (1867) has passed 

Nechayeff. Cf. Resolutions II, XVII, XIII, XIV, respectively, 
of the Conference of Delegates of the International Working 
Men's Association, Assembled at London from 17th to 23d 
September, 1871. 


this resolution: 'The social emancipation of the work- 
men is inseparable from their political emancipation ;' 

"That the declaration of the General Council relative 
to the pretended plot of the French Internationals on the 
eve of the plebiscite (1870) says: 'Certainly by the 
tenor of our statutes, all our branches in England, on the 
Continent, and in America have the special mission not 
only to serve as centers for the militant organization of 
the working class, but also to support, in their respec- 
tive countries, every political movement tending toward 
the accomplishment of our ultimate end — the economic 
emancipation of the working class;' 

"Considering that against this collective power of the 
propertied classes the working class cannot act, as a 
class, except by constituting itself into a political party, 
distinct from, and opposed to, all old parties formed by 
the propertied classes ; 

"That this constitution of the working class into a 
political party is indispensable in order to insure the 
triumph of the social revolution and its ultimate end— 
the abolition of classes ; 

"That the combination of forces which the working 
class has already effected by its economic struggles 
ought at the same time to serve as a lever for its strug- 
gles against the political power of landlords and cap- 

"The Conference recalls to the members of the Inter- 

"That, in the militant state of the working class, its 
economic movement and its political action are indissolu- 
bly united." (52) 

From the congress at Basel in 1869 to the conference 
at The Hague in 1872, little was done by the Interna- 


tiohal to realize its great aim of organizing politically the 
working class of Europe. It had been completely side- 
tracked, and all the energies of its leading spirits were 
wasted in controversy and in the various struggles of the 
factions to control the organization. It was a period of 
incessant warfare. Nearly every local conference was a 
scene of dissension; many of the branches were dis- 
solved ; and disruption in the Latin countries was gradu- 
ally obliterating whatever there was of actual organiza- 
tion. It all resolved itself into a question of domination 
between Bakounin and Marx. The war between Ger- 
many and France prevented an international gathering, 
and it was not until September, 1872, that another con- 
gress of the International was held. It was finally de- 
cided that it should gather at The Hague. The Com- 
mune had flashed across the sky for a moment. Insur- 
rection had broken out and had been crushed in various 
places in Europe. Strikes were more frequent than had 
ever been known before. And, because of these various 
disturbances, the International had become the terror of 
Europe. Its strength and influence were vastly over- 
estimated by the reactionary powers. Its hand was seen 
in every act of the discontented masses. It became the 
"Red Spectre," and all the powers of Europe were now 
seeking to destroy it. Looming thus large to the outside 
world, those within the International knew how baseless 
were the fears of its opponents. They realized that in- 
ternecine war was eating its heart out. During all this 
time, when it was credited and blamed for every revolt 
in Europe, there were incredible plotting and intrigue be- 
tween the factions. Endless documents were printed, 
assailing the alleged designs of this or that group, and 
secret circulars were issued denouncing the character of 
this or that leader. Sections were formed and dissolved 


in the maneuvers of the two factions to control the ap- 
proaching congress. And, when finally the congress 
gathered at The Hague, there was a gravity among the 
delegates that foreboded what was to come. The Marx- 
ists were in absolute control. On the resolution to ex- 
pel Michael Bakounin from the International the vote 
stood twenty-seven for and six against, while seven ab- 
stained. The expulsion of Bakounin, however, occurred 
only after a long debate upon his entire history and that 
of his secret Alliance. Nearly all the amazing collection 
of "documentary proof," afterward published in L' Alli- 
ance de la Democratie Socialiste, was submitted to the 
congress, and a resolution was passed that all the docu- 
ments should be published, together with such others as 
might tend to enlighten the membership concerning the 
purposes of Bakounin's organization. 

Two other important actions were taken at the con- 
gress. One was to introduce into the actual rules of the 
Association part of the resolution, which was passed by 
the conference in London the year before, dealing with 
political action, and this was adopted by thirty-six votes 
against five. The other action was to remove the seat of 
the General Council from London to New York. Al- 
though this was suggested by Marx, it was energetically 
fought on the ground that it meant the destruction of the 
International. By a very narrow vote the resolution was 
carried, twenty-six to twenty-three, a number of Marx's 
oldest and most devoted followers voting against the 
proposition. No really satisfactory explanation is given 
for this extraordinary act, although it has been thought 
since that Marx had arrived at the decision, perhaps the 
hardest of his life, to destroy the International i'n order 
to save it from the hands of the anarchists. To be sure, 
Bakounin was now out of it, and there was little to be 


feared from his faction, segregated and limited to cer- 
tain places in the Latin countries; but everywhere the 
name of the International was being used by all sorts of 
elements that could only injure the actual labor move- 
ment. The exploits of Nechayeff, of Bakounin, and of 
certain Spanish and Italian sections had all conveyed 
to the world an impression of the International which 
perhaps could never be altogether erased. Furthermore, 
in Germany and other countries the seeds of an actual 
working-class political movement had been planted, and 
there was already promise of a huge development in the 
national organizations. What moved Marx thus to -de- 
stroy his own child, the concrete thing he had dreamed 
of in his thirty years of incessant labor, profound study, 
and ceaseless agitation, will perhaps never be fully 
known, but in any case no act of Marx was ever of 
greater service to the cause of labor. It was a form of 
surgery that cut out of the socialist movement forever 
an irreconcilable element, and from then on the distinc- 
tion between anarchist and socialist was indisputably 
clear. They stood poles apart, and everyone realized 
that no useful purpose would be served in trying to bring 
them together again. 

Largely because of Bakounin, the International_ as an 
organization of Jabor never plaj^ed an important role ; 
but, as a melting pot in which the crude ideas of many 
philosophies were lli£awfc-rSom£tb"be Tule3r''of!i5rs to 
be cast aside, and.aiLeyeAtually _to becIariEed and puri- 
fied — the International performed a m&fnoraBTe service. 
During its'eritire life it'was a battlefield. In th"e~l5egin- 
ning there were many separate groups, but at the end 
there were only two forces in combat — socialists and 
anarchists. When the quarrel began there was among 
the masses no sharply dividing line ; their ideas were in- 


coherent; and their allegiance was to individuals rather 
than to principles. Without much discrimination, they 
called themselves "communists," "Internationalists," 
"collectivists," "anarchists," "socialists." Even these 
terms they had not defined, and it was only toward the 
end of the International that the two combatants classi- 
fied their principles into two antagonistic schools, so- 
cialism and anarchism. Anarchism was no longer a 
vague, undefined philosophy of human happiness ; it now 
stood forth, clear and distinct from all other social the- 
ories. After this no one need be in doubt as to its 
meaning and methods. On the other hand, no thought- 
ful person need longer remain in doubt as to the exact 
meaning and methods of socialism. This work of defi- 
nition and clarification was the immense service per- 
formed by the International in its eight brief years of 
life. Throughout Europe and America, after 1872, these 
two forces openly declared that they had nothing in com- 
mon, either in method or in philosophy. To them at least 
the International had been a university. 



After The Hague congress the socialists and anar- 
chists, divided into separate and antagonistic groups — 
with principles as well as methods of organization that 
were diametrically opposed to each other — were forced 
to undergo a terrific struggle for existence. Marx had 
clearly enough warned the followers of Bakounin that 
their methods were suicidal. "The Alliance proceeds the 
wrong way," he declared. "It proclaims anarchy in the 
working-class ranks as the surest means of destroying 
the powerful concentration of social and political forces 
in the hands of the exploiters. On this pretext it asks 
the International, at the moment when the old world is 
striving to crush it, to replace its organization by anar- 
chy." (i) And, as strange as it may seem, this was in 
fact what Bakounin was actually striving for. In the 
name of liberty he was demanding that the International 
be broken up into thousands of isolated, autonomous 
groups, which were to do whatever they pleased, in any 
way they pleased, at any time they pleased. This may 
have been, and doubtless was, in perfect harmony with 
the philosophy of anarchism, but it had nothing in har- 
mony with the idea of a solidified, international organi- 
zation of workingmen that Marx was striving to bring 
into existence. Anarchism when advocated as an ideal 
for some distant social order of the future, concerned 
Marx and Engels very little; indeed, they did not even 



discuss it from this point of view. It was only when 
Bakounin counseled anarchy as a method of working- 
class organization that both Marx and Engels protested, 
on the ground that such tactics could lead only to self- 
destruction. Neither Bakounin nor his followers were 
convinced, however, and they set out bravely after 1872 
to put into practice their ideas. Their revolt against au- 
thority was carried to its ultimate extreme. How far the 
anarchists were prepared to go in their revolt is indi- 
cated by a letter which Bakounin wrote to La Liberie of 
Brussels a few days after his expulsion from the In- 
ternational. Although not finished, and consequently not 
sent to that journal, it is especially interesting because 
he attacks the General CounciLas a new incarnation of 
the State. Here his lively imagination pictures the In- 
ternational as the germ of a new despotic social order, 
already fallen under the domination of a group of dicta- 
tors, and he exclaims: "A State, a government, a uni- 
versal dictatorship! The dream of Gregory VII., of 
Boniface VIII., of Charles V., and of Napoleon is re- 
produced in new forms, but ever with the same preten- 
sions, in the camp of social democracy." (2) This is an 
altogether new point of view as to the character of the 
State. We now learn that it means any form of cen- 
tralized organization ; a committee, a chairman, an execu- 
tive body of any sort is a State. The General Council 
in London was a State. Marx and Engels were a State. 
Any authority — no matter what its form, nor how con- 
trolled, appointed, or elected — is a State. 

I am not sure that this marks the birth of the re- 
pugnance of the anarchists to even so innocent a form of 
authority as that of a chairman. Nor am I certain that 
this was the origin of those ideas of organization that 
make of an anarchist meeting a modern Babel, wherein 


all seems to be utter confusion. In any case, the Ba- 
kouninists, after The Hague congress, undertook to re- 
vive the International and to base this new organization 
on these ideas of anarchism. After a conference at 
Saint-Imier in the Jura, where Bakounin and his friends 
outlined the policies of a new International, a call was 
sent out for a congress to be held in Geneva in 1873. 
The congress that assembled there was not a large one, 
but, with no exaggeration whatever, it was one of the 
most remarkable gatherings ever held. For six entire 
days and nights the delegates struggled to create by some 
magic means a world-wide organization of the people, 
without a program, a committee, a chairman, or a vote. 
No longer oppressed by the "tyranny" of Marx, or 
baffled by his "abominable intrigues," they set out to 
create their "faithful image" of the new world — an or- 
ganization that was not to be an organization; a union 
that was to be made up of fleeting and constantly shift- 
ing elements, agreeing at one moment to unite, at the 
next moment to divide. This was the insolvable problem 
that now faced the first congress of the anarchists. There 
were only two heretics among them. Both had come 
from England; but Hales was a "voice crying in the 
wilderness," while Eccarius sat silent throughout the 

The first great debate took place upon whether there 
should be any central council. The English .delegates 
believed that there should be one, but that its power 
should be limited. Other delegates believed that there 
might be various commissions to perform certain neces- 
sary executive services. John Hales declared, in support 
of a central commission, that it will promote economy 
and facilitate the work, and that it will be easy to pre- 
vent such a commission from usurping power. (3) Paul 


Brousse, Guillaume, and others opposed this view with 
such heat, however, that Hales was forced to respond: 
"I combat anarchy because the word and the thing that 
it represents are the synonyms of dissolution. Anarchy 
spells individualism, and individualism is the basis of 
the existing society that we desire to destroy. . . . 
Let us suppose, for example, a strike. Can one hope to 
triumph with an anarchist organization? Under this 
regime each one, being able to do what he pleases, can, 
according to his will, work or not work. The general 
interest will be sacrificed to individual caprice. The 
veritable application of the anarchist principle would be 
the dissolution of the International, and this congress has 
precisely an opposite end, which is to reorganize the In- 
ternational. One should not confound authority and 
organization. We are not authoritarians, but we must be 
organizers. Far from approving anarchy, which is the 
present social state, we ought to combat it by the crea- 
tion of a central commission and by the organization of 
collectivism. Anarchy is the law of death; collectivism, 
that of life." (4) This was, as Hales soon discovered, 
the very essence of heresy, and, when the vote was taken, 
he was overwhelmed by those opposed to any centralized 

The anarchists were not, however, content merely with 
having no central council, and they began to discuss 
whether or not the various federations should vote upon 
questions of principle. The commission that was deal- 
ing with the revision of the by-laws recommended that 
views should be harmonized by discussion and that any 
decisions made by the congress should be enforced only 
among those federations which accepted its decisions. 
Costa of Italy approved of these ideas. "For that which 
concerns theory, we can only discuss and seek to per- 


suade each other, . . . but we cannot enforce, for 
example, ... a certain political program." (5) 
Brousse vigorously opposed the process of voting in any 
form. It appeared to him that the true means of action 
was to obtain the opinion of everyone. "The vote," he 
declared, "simply divides an assembly into a majority 
and a minority. . . . The only truly practical means 
of obtaining a consensus of opinions is to have them 
placed in the minutes without voting." (6) That view 
seemed to prevail, and the amendment to this question 
suggested by Hales of England was voted down by the 

These two decisions of the congress will convey an 
idea of the anarchist conception of organization. There 
was to be no executive or administrative body. Nor were 
the decisions of the congress to have any authority. 
Anybody could join, believing anything he liked and do- 
ing anything he liked. Only those federations which vol- 
untarily accepted the decisions of the congress were ex- 
pected to obey them. Matters of principle were in no- 
wise to be voted upon, and each individual was allowed 
to accept or reject them according to his wishes. The 
actual rules, adopted unanimously, ran as follows: 
"Federations and sections, composing the Association, 
will conserve their complete autonomy, that is to say, 
the right to organize themselves according to their will, 
to administer their own affairs without any exterior 
interference, and to determine themselves the path they 
wish to follow in order to arrive at the emancipation of 
labor." (7) 

It was fully expected that, in addition to its work of 
reorganization, if we may so speak of it, the congress 
would definitely devise some method, other than a po- 
litical one, for the emancipation of labor. The general 


strike had been put down upon the agenda for discus- 
sion. In the report of the Jura section it was declared : 
"If the workers affiliated with the Association could fix 
a certain day for the general strike, not only to obtain a 
reduction of hours and a diminution * of wages, but also 
to find the means of living in the cooperative workshops, 
by groups and by colonies, we could not decline to lend 
them our assistance, and we would make appeal to the 
members of all nations to lend them both moral and 
material aid." (8) Unfortunately, the congress had lit- 
tle time to discuss this part of its program. In the" 
Compte-Rendu OMciel there is no report of whatever 
discussion took place. But Guillaume, in his Documents 
et Souvenirs, gives us a brief account of what occurred. 
After two resolutions had been put on the subject they 
were withdrawn because of opposition, and finally Guil- 
laume introduced the following: 

"Whereas partial strikes can only^^grocure ^for the 
work ers momentary and illusory rrelief, .and-whereaSj^by 
l;heir very nature, wages will always J3e_ limited, to the 
strictlj^ necessary" meaiis' of subsistence in order to keep 
the worker from dying of hunger, 

" The Congress^ ^^ithout believTtig in the possibilitj[__of 
completely ren ouncing partial strikes, recommends the 
workers to devote their efforts to ach ieving an interna- 
tional organization of trade bodies, which will enable 
them to undertake some day "a general striker" the only 
realfy 'efficacibui" strike to reaIize_the_complete_^nanci^ 
pation of_jabor." (9) All the delegates approved the 
resolution, excepting Hales, who voted against it, and 
Van den Abeele, who abstained from voting because the 
matter would be later discussed in Holland. 

* Probably intended for "increase of wages," but this is as it 
reads in the official report. 


It was of course inevitable that such an "organization" 
should soon disappear. Vigorous efforts were made by 
a few of the devoted to keep the movement alive, but 
it is easy to see that an aggregation so loosely united, and 
without any really definite purpose, was destined to dis- 
solution. During the next few years various small con- 
gresses were held, but they were merely beating a corpse 
in the effort to keep it alive. And, while the Bakounin- 
ists were engaged in this critical struggle with death, the 
spirit that had animated all their battles with Marx with- 
drew himself. Bakounin was tired and discouraged, and 
he left his friends of the Jura without advice or assist- 
ance in their now impossible task. Thus precipitately 
ended the efforts of the anarchists to build up a new In- 
ternational. George Plechanoff illuminates the insolvable 
problem of the anarchists with his powerful statement: 
"Error has its logic as well as truth. Once you reject 
the political action of the working class, you are fatally 
driven — provided you do not wish to serve the bour- 
geois politicians — ^to accept the tactics of the Vaillants 
and the Henrys." ( lo) That this is terribly true is open 
to no question whatever. And the anarchists now found 
themselves in a veritable cul-de-sac. Like the poor in 
Sidney Lanier's poem, they were pressing 

"Against an inward-opening door 
That pressure tightens evermore." 

The more they fretted and stormed and crushed each 
other, the more hopelessly impossible became the chance 
of egress. The more desperately they threw themselves 
against that door, the more securely they imprisoned 
themselves. It was the very logic of their tactics that 
they could not circumvent so small an obstacle as that 
inward-opening door. It meant self-destruction. And 


that, of course, was exactly what happened, as we know, 
to those who followed the vicious round of logic from 
which Bakounin could not extricate himself. Their 
struggle for an organized existence was brief, and at the 
end of the seventies it was entirely over. 

Naturally, the complete failure of all their projects did 
not improve their temper, and they lost no opportunity 
to assail the Marxists. The Jura Bulletin of December 
10, 1876, translated an article entitled Poco a Poco, writ- 
ten by Andrea Costa, who labeled the "pacific" socialists 
"apostles of conciliation and ambiguity." They wish, 
said Costa, to march slowly on the road of progress. 
"Otherwise, indeed, what would become of them and 
their newspapers? For them the field of fruitful study 
and of profound observations on the phenomena of in- 
dustrial life would be closed. For the journalists the 
means of earning money would have likewise disappeared. 
. . . Finding the satisfaction of their own aspirations 
in the present state of misery, they end by becoming, 
often without wishing it, profoundly egotistic and bad 
. . . While calling themselves socialists, they are 
more dangerous than the declared enemies of the popu- 
lar cause." (11) About this time a new journal ap- 
peared at Florence under the name of I'Anarchia and 
announced the following program: "We are not arm- 
chair (Katheder) socialists. We will speak a simple 
language in order that the proletariat may understand 
once for all what road it must follow in order to arrive 
at its complete emancipation. L'AnarcMa will fight with- 
out truce not only the exploiting bourgeoisie, but also 
the new charlatans of socialism, for the latter are the 
most dangerous enemies of the working class." (12) 

The following year Kropotkin wrote two articles in 
the Bulletin, July 22 and 29, which vigorously attacked 


socialist parliamentary tactics. "At what price does one 
succeed in leading the people to the ballot boxes?" he 
asks in the first article. "Have the frankness to ac- 
knowledge, gentlemen politicians, that it is by inculcating 
this illusion, that in sending members to parliament the 
people will succeed in freeing themselves and in better- 
ing their lot, that is to say, by telling them what one 
knows to be an absolute lie. It is certainly not for the 
pleasure of getting their education that the German peo- 
ple give their pennies for parliamentary agitation. It is 
because, from hearing it repeated each day by hundreds 
of 'agitators,' they come to believe that truly by this 
method they will be able to realize, in part at least, if not 
completely, their hopes. Acknowledge it for once, poli- 
ticians of to-day, formerly socialists, that we may say 
aloud what you think in silence : 'You are liars !' Yes, 
liars, I insist upon the word, since you lie to the people 
when you tell them that they will better their lot by 
sending you to parliament. You lie, for you yourselves, 
but a few years since, have maintained absolutely the 
contrary." (13) 

What infuriated the anarchists was the amazing 
growth of the socialist political parties. It was only 
after The Hague congress that the socialist movement 
was in reality free to begin its actual work. With ideas 
diametrically opposed to those of the anarchists, the so- 
cialists set out to build up their national movements by 
uniting the various elements in the labor world. There 
were now devoted disciples of Marx in every country of 
Europe, and in the next few years, in France, Belgium, 
Holland, Norway, Sweden, and Germany, the founda- 
tions were laid for the great national movements that 
exist to-day. In France, Jules Guesde, Paul Lafargue, 
and Gabriel Deville launched a socialist labor party in 


1878. A Danish socialist labor party was formed the 
same year by an agreement with the trade unions. In 
the early eighties the Social-Democratic Federation was 
founded in England, and in 1881 a congress of various 
groups of radicals, socialists, and republicans launched 
a political movement in Italy. In Germany the socialists 
had already built up a great political organization. This 
had been done directly under the guidance of Marx and 
Engels through Liebknecht and Bebel. Marx's ideas 
were there perfectly worked out, and nothing so much 
as that living, growing thing incensed the anarchists. 
Indeed, they seemed to be convinced that there was more 
of menace to the working class in these growing organi- 
zations of the socialists 'than in the power of the bour- 
geoisie itself. 

The controversial literature of this period is not pleas- 
ant reading. The socialists and anarchists were literally 
at each other's throats, and the spirit of malignity that 
actuated many of their assaults upon each other is re- 
volting to those of to-day who cannot appreciate the in- 
tensity of this battle for the preservation of their most 
cherished ideas. And in all this period the socialist and 
labor movement was overrun with agents provocateurs, 
and every variety of paid police agents sent to disrupt 
and destroy these organizations. And, as has always 
been the case, these "reptiles," as they were called, were 
advocating among the masses those deeds which the chief 
anar chists were proclaiming as revolutionary methods. 
Riots, insurre ctions, dy namite ou t ragesTlKe sfiobting o f 
indi viduals, and all f orms of violence were being 
prea ched to the po o r and hun gr y men v/ho made up th e 
mass of the la bor movernen t. Under the guise of_anar- 
chists, these ^^reptiles" w eES-^^^"-^""^^' upnn- flsJierDic 
figures, and everywhere, even when they did not sue- 


ceed in winning thg. c onfidence of t he masses, they were 
^bleToTawaken suspicion and distrust that demoralized 
the movement - "The~sofciai"ists were assailed as traitors 
to the cause of labor, because they were preaching peace- 
able methods. They were accused of alliances with other 
parties, because they sought to elect men to parliament. 
They were denounced as in league with the Government 
and even the police, because they disapproved of dyna- 

On the other hand, the socialists were equally bitter 
in their attacks upon the anarchists. They denounced 
their methods as suicidal and the Propaganda of the 
Deed as utter madness. In La Periode Tragique, when 
Duval, Decamps, Ravachol, and the other anarchists in 
France were committing the most astounding crimes, 
Jules Guesde and other socialist leaders condemned these 
outrages and protested against being associated in the 
public mind with those who advocated theft and murder 
as a method of propaganda. Indeed, the anarchists in 
the late seventies and in the eighties lost many who had 
been formerly friendly to them. Guesde and Plecha- 
noff, both of whom had been influenced in their early days 
by the Bakouninists, had broken with them completely. 
Later Paul Brousse and Andrea Costa left them. And, 
in fact, the anarchists were now incapable of any effec- 
tive action or even education. Without committees, ex- 
ecutives, laws, votes, or chairmen, they could not under- 
take any work which depended on organized effort, and, 
except as they managed from time to time to gain a 
prominent position in some labor or radical organization 
built up by others, they had no influence over any large 
body of people. They were fighting desperately to pre- 
vent extinction, and in their struggle a number of ex- 
traordinarily brilliant and daring characters came to the 


front. But during the next decade their tragic despera- 
tion, instead of advancing anarchism, served only to 
strengthen the reactionary elements of Europe in their 
effort to annihilate the now formidable labor and social- 
ist movements. 

Turning now to the struggle for existence of the so- 
cialist parties of the various countries, there is one story 
that is far too important in the history of socialism to 
be passed over. It was a magnificent battle against the 
terrorists above and the terrorists below, that ended in 
complete victory for the socialists. Strangely enough, 
the greatest provocation to violence that has ever con- 
fronted the labor movement and the greatest opportunity 
that was ever offered to anarchy occurred in precisely 
that country where it was least expected. Nowhere else 
in all Europe had socialism made such advances as in 
Germany; and nowhere else was the movement so well 
organized, so intelligently led, or so clear as to its aims 
and methods. An immense agitation had gone on dur- 
ing the entire sixties, and working-class organizations 
were springing up everywhere. Besides possessing the 
greatest theorists of socialism, Marx and Engels, the 
German movement was rich indeed in having in its serv- 
ice three such matchless agitators as Lassalle, Bebel, and 
Liebknecht. Lassalle certainly had no peer, and those 
who have written of him exhaust superlatives in their 
efforts to describe this prodigy. He, also, was a product 
of that hero-producing period of '48. He had been ar- 
rested in Diisseldorf at the same time that Marx and his 
circle had been arrested at Cologne. He was then only 
twenty-three years of age. Yet his defense of his actions 
in court is said to have been a masterpiece. Even the 
critic George Brandes has spoken of it as the most won- 


derful example of manly courage and eloquence in a 
youth that the history of the world has given us. 

Precocious as a child, proud and haughty as a youth, 
gifted with a critical, penetrating, and brilliant mind, 
and moved by an ambition that knew no bounds, Las- 
salle, with all his powerful passion and dramatic talents, 
could not have been other than a great figure. When a 
man possesses qualities that call forth the wonder of 
Heine, Humboldt, Bismarck, and Brandes, when Bakou- 
nin calls him a "giant," and even George Meredith turns 
to him as a personality almost unequaled in fiction and 
makes a novel out of his career, the plain ordinary world 
may gain some conception of this "father of the German 
labor movement." This is no place to deal with certain 
deplorable and contradictory phases of his life nor even 
with some of his mad dreams that led Bismarck, after 
saying that "he was one of the most intellectual and 
gifted men with whom I have ever had intercourse, 
. . . " to add "and it was perhaps a matter of doubt 
to him whether the German Empire wpuld close with 
the Hohenzollern dynasty or the Lassalle dynasty." (14) 
Such was the proud, unruly, ambitious spirit of the man, 
who, in 1862, came actively to voice the claims of labor. 

Setting out to regenerate society and appealing directly 
to the working classes, Lassalle lashed them with scorn. 
"You German workingmen are curious people," he said. 
"French and English workingmen have to be shown 
how their miserable condition may be improved ; but you 
have first to be shown that you are in a miserable con- 
dition. So long as you have a piece of bad sausage and 
a glass of beer, you do not notice that you want any- 
thing. That is a result of your accursed absence of 
needs. What, you will say, is this, then, a virtue ? Yes, 
in the eyes of the Christian preacher of morality it is cer- 


taiilly a virtue. Absence of needs is the virtue of the In- 
dian pillar saint and of the Christian monk, but in the 
eyes of the student of history and the political econ- 
omist it is quite a different matter. Ask all political 
economists what is the greatest misfortune for a nation? 
The absence of wants. For these are the spurs of its 
development and of civilization. The Neapolitan la- 
zaroni are so far behind in civilization, because they have 
no wants, because they stretch themselves out content- 
edly and warm themselves in the sun when they have 
secured a handful of macaroni. Why is the Russian 
Cossack so backward in civilization? Because he eats 
tallow candles and is hdppy when he can fuddle him- 
self on bad liquor. To have as many needs as possible, 
but to satisfy them in an honorable and respectable way, 
that is the virtue of the present, of the economic age! 
And, so long as you do not understand and follow that 
truth, I shall preach in vain." (15) Other nations may 
be slaves, he added, recalling the words of Ludwig Borne ; 
they may be put in chains and be held down by force, 
but the Germans are flunkies — it is not necessary to lay 
chains on them — they may be allowed to wander free 
about the house. Yet, while thus shaming the working 
classes, he pleaded their cause as no other one has 
pleaded it, and, after humiliating them, he held them 
spellbound, as he traced the great role the working classes 
were destined to play in the regeneration of all society. 
The socialism of Lassalle had much in common with 
that of Louis Blanc, and his theory of cooperative enter- 
prises subsidized by the State was almost identical. 
Chiefly toward this end he sought to promote working- 
class organization, although he also believed that the 
working classes would eventually gain control of the en- 
tire State and, through it, reorganize production. He 


agitated for universal suffrage and even plotted with 
Bismarck to obtain it. He was confident that an indus- 
trial revolution was inevitable. The change "will either 
come in complete legality," he said, "and with all the 
blessings of peace — if people are only wise enough to 
resolve that it shall be introduced in time and from 
above — or it will one day break in amid all the convul- 
sions of violence, with wild, flowing hair, and iron san- 
dals upon its feet. In one way or the other it will come 
at all events, and when, shutting myself from the noise 
of the day, I lose myself in history — then I hear its 
tread. But do you not see, then, that, in spite of this 
difference in what we believe, our endeavors go hand in 
hand? You do not believe in revolution, and therefore 
you want to prevent it. Good, do that which is your 
duty. But I do believe in revolution, and, because I be- 
lieve in it, I wish, not to precipitate it — for I have al- 
ready told you that according to my view of history the 
efforts of a tribune are in this respect necessarily as im- 
potent as the breath of my mouth would be to unfetter 
the storm upon the sea — but in case it should come, and 
from below, I will humanize it, civilize it before- 
hand." (i6) Thus Lassalle saw that "to wish to make a 
revolution is the foolishness of immature men who have 
no knowledge of the laws of history." (17) Yet he 
stated also that, if a revolution is imminent, it is equally 
childish for the powerful to' think they can stem it. 
"Revolution is an overturning, and a revolution always 
takes place — whether it be with or without force is a 
matter of no importance . . . when an entirely new 
principle is introduced in the place of the existing order. 
Reform, on the other hand, takes place when the princi- 
ple of the existing order is retained, but is developed to 
more liberal or more consequent and just conclusions. 


Here, again, the question of means is of no importance. 
A reform may be effected by insurrection and bloodshed, 
and a revolution may take place in the deepest 
peace." (18) 

Through the agitation of Lassalle, the Universal Ger- 
man Working Men's Association was organized, and it 
was his work for that body that won him fame as the 
founder of the German labor movement. Not a laborer 
himself, nor indeed speaking to them as one of them- 
selves, he led a life that would probably have ended dis- 
astrously, even to the cause itself, had it not been for his 
dramatic ending through the love affair and the duel. 
Fate was kind to Lassalle in that he lived only so long 
as his influence served the cause of the workers, and in 
that death took him before life shattered another idol 
of the masses. "One of two things," said Lassalle once 
before his judges. "Either let us drink Cyprian wine 
and kiss beautiful maidens — in other words, indulge in 
the most common selfishness of pleasure — or, if we are 
to speak of the State and morality, let us dedicate all our 
powers to the improvement of the dark lot of the vast 
majority of mankind, out of whose night-covered floods 
we, the propertied class, only rise like solitary pillars, as 
if to show how dark are those floods, how deep is their 
abyss." (19) With such marvelous pictures as this Las- 
salle created a revolution in the thought and even in the 
action of the working classes of Germany. At times he 
drank Cyprian wines, and what might have happened 
had he lived no one can tell. But he was indeed at the 
time a "solitary pillar," rising out of "night-covered 
floods," a heroic figure, who is even to-day an unforgetta- 
ble memory. 

Bebel and Liebknecht appeared in the German move- 
ment as influential figures only after the disappearance 


of Lassalle. And, while the labor movement was already 
launched, it was in a deplorable condition when these two 
began their great work of uniting the toilers and organiz- 
ing a political party. One of the first difficult tasks 
placed before them was to root out of the labor move- 
ment the corruption which Bismarck had introduced into 
it. That great and rising statesman was a practical poli- 
tician not excelled even in America. In the most cold- 
blooded manner he sought to buy men and movements. 
For variqus reasons of his own he wanted the support 
of the working-class; and, as early as 1864, he em- 
ployed Lothar Bucher, an old revolutionist who had been 
intimately associated with Marx. Possessed of remark- 
able intellectual gifts and an easy conscience, Bucher 
was of invaluable service to Bismarck, both in his knowl- 
edge of the inside workings of the labor and socialist 
movement and as a go-between when the Iron Chancel- 
lor had any dealings with the socialists. Through Bucher, 
Bismarck tried to bribe even Marx, and offered him a 
position on the Government official newspaper, the 
Staats Anzeiger. Bucher was also an intimate friend of 
Lassalle's, and it was doubtless through him that Bis- 
marck arranged his secret conferences with Lassalle. 
The latter left no account of their relations, and it is 
difficult now to know how intimate they were or who 
first sought to establish them. About all that is known 
is what Bismarck himself said in the Reichstag when 
Bebel forced him to admit that he had conferred fre- 
quently with Lassalle : "Lassalle himself wanted urgently 
to enter into negotiations with me." (20) It is known 
that Lassalle sent to the Chancellor numerous communi- 
cations, and that one of his letters to the secretary of the 
Universal Association reads, "The things sent to Bis- 
marck should go in an envelope" marked "Per- 


sonal." (21) Liebknecht later exposed August Brass 
as in the employ of Bismarck, although he was a "red 
republican," who had started a journal and had obtained 
Liebknecht's cooperation. Furthermore, when he was 
tried for high treason in 1872, Liebknecht declared that 
Bismarck's agents had tried to buy him. "Bismarck takes 
not only money, but also men, where he finds them. It 
does not matter to what party a man belongs. That is 
immaterial to him. He even prefers renegades, for a 
renegade is a man without honor and, consequently, an 
instrument without will power — as if dead — in the hands 
of the master." (22) "I do not need to say . . . 
that I repelled Bismarck's offers of corruption with the 
scorn which they merited," Liebknecht continues. "If I 
had not done so, if I had been infamous enough to sacri- 
fice my principles to my personal interest, I would be in 
a brilliant position, instead of on the bench of the ac- 
cused where I have been sent by those who, years ago, 
tried in vain to buy me." (23) As early as 1865 Marx 
and Engels had to withdraw from their collaboration 
with Von Schweitzer in his journal, the Sozialdemokrat, 
because it was suspected that he had sold out to Bis- 
marck. This was followed by Bebel's and Liebknecht's 
war on Von Schweitzer because of his relations to Bis- 
marck. Von Schweitzer, as the successor of Lassalle at 
the head of the Universal Working Men's Association, 
occupied a powerful position, and the quarrels between 
the various elements in the labor movement were at this 
time almost fatal to the cause. However, various repre- 
sentatives of the working class already sat in Parliament, 
and among them were Bebel and Liebknecht. 

The exposures of Liebknecht and Bebel proved not 
only ruinous to Von Schweitzer, but excessively annoying 
to Bismarck, and as early as 1871 he wanted to begin a 


war upon the Marxian socialists. In 1874 he actually 
began his attempts to crush what he could no longer cor- 
rupt or control. He became more and more enraged at 
the attitude of the socialists toward him personally. 
Moreover, they were no longer advocating cooperative 
associations subsidized by the State; they were now 
propagating everywhere republican and socialist ideas. 
He tried in various ways to rid the country of the two 
chief malcontents, Bebel and Liebknecht, but even their 
arrests seemed only to add to their fame and to spread 
more throughout the masses their revolutionary views. 
He says himself that he was awakened to the iniquity of 
their doctrines when they defended the republican prin- 
ciples of the Paris workmen in 187 1. At his trial in 
1872 Liebknecht stated with perfect frankness his re- 
publican principles. "Gentlemen Judges and Jurors, I 
do not disown my past, my principles, and my convic- 
tions. I deny nothing ; I conceal nothing. And, in order 
to show that I am an adversary of monarchy and of 
present society, and that when duty calls me I do not 
recoil before the struggle, there was truly no need of the 
foolish inventions of the policemen of Giessen. I say 
here freely and openly: Since I have been capable of 
thinking I have been a republican, and I shall die a re- 
publican. (24) . . . If I have had to undergo un- 
heard of persecutions and if I am poor, that is nothing 
to be ashamed of — no, I am proud of it, for that is the 
most eloquent witness of my political integrity. Yet, 
once more, I am not a conspirator by profession. Call 
me, if you will, a soldier of the Revolution — I do not 
object to that. 

"From my youth a double ideal has soared above me : 
Germany free and united and the emancipation of the 
working people, that is to say, the suppression of class 


domination, which is synonymous with the liberation of 
humanity. For this double end I have struggled with 
all my strength, and for this double end I will struggle 
as long as a breath of life remains in me. Duty wills 
it!" (25) 

Such doctrines must of course be suppressed, and the 
exposure o.f those who had relations with Bismarck 
made it impossible for him longer to deal even with a 
section of the labor movement. The result was that 
persecutions were begun on both the Lassalleans and the 
Marxists. And it was largely this new policy of repres- 
sion that forced the warring labor groups in 1875 to 
meet in conference at Gotha and to unite in one organi- 
zation. In the following election, 1877, the united party 
polled nearly five hundred thousand votes, or about ten 
per cent, of all the votes cast in Germany. It now had 
twelve members in the Reichstag, and Bismarck saw very 
clearly that a force was rising in Germany that threat- 
ened not only him but his beloved Hohenzollern dynasty 

For years most of its opponents comforted themselves 
with the belief that socialism was merely a temporary 
disturbance which, if left alone, would run its course 
and eventually die out. Again and again its militant 
enemies had discussed undertaking measures against it, 
but the wiser heads prevailed until 1877, when the so- 
cialists polled a great vote. And, of course, when it was 
once decided that socialism must be stamped out, a really 
good pretext was soon found upon which repressive 
measures might be taken. I have already mentioned 
that on May 11, 1878, Emperor William was shot at by 
Hodel. It was, of course, natural that the reactionaries 
should make the most possible of this act of the would-be 
assassin, and, when photographs of several prominent so- 



cialists were found on his person, a great clamor arose 
for a coercive law to destroy the social democrats. The 
question was immediately discussed in the Reichstag, but 
the moderate forces prevailed, and the bill was rejected. 
Hardly, however, had the discussion ended before a sec- 
ond attempt was made on the life of the aged sovereign. 
This time it was Dr. Karl NobiUng who, on June 2, 1878, 
fired at the Emperor from an upper window in the main 
street of Berlin. In this case, the Emperor was se- 
verely wounded, and, in the panic that ensued, even the 
moderate elements agreed that social democracy must be 
suppressed. Various suggestions were made. Some pro- 
posed the blacklisting of all workmen who avowed social- 
ist principles, while others suggested that all socialists 
should be expelled from the country. To exile half a 
million voters was, however, a rather large undertaking, 
and, in any case, Bismarck had his own plans. First he 
precipitated a general election, giving the socialists no 
time to prepare their campaign. As a result, their mem- 
bers in the Reichstag were diminished in number, and 
their vote throughout the country decreased by over fifty 
thousand. When the Reichstag again assembled, Bis- 
marck laid before it his bill against "the publicly dan- 
gerous endeavors of social-democracy." The statement 
accompanying the bill sought to justify its repressive 
measures by citing in the preamble the two attempts 
made upon the Emperor, and by stating the conviction 
of the Federal Government that extraordinary measures 
must be taken. A battle royal occurred in the Reich- 
stag between Bismarck on the one side and Bebel and 
Liebknecht on the other. Nevertheless, the bill became 
a law in October of that year. 

The anti-socialist law was intended to cut off every 
legal and peaceable means of advancing the socialist 


cause. It was determined that the German social demo- 
crats must be put mentally, morally, and physically upon 
the rack. Even the briefest summary of the provisions 
of the anti-socialist law will illustrate how determined the 
reactionaries were to annihilate utterly the socialist move- 
ment. The chief measures were as follows: 

/. Prohibitory 

1. The formation or existence of organizations 
which sought by social-democratic, socialistic, or 
communistic movements to subvert the present State 
and social order was prohibited. The prohibition 
was also extended to organizations exhibiting tend- 
encies which threatened to endanger the public peace 
and amity between classes. 

2. The right of assembly was greatly restricted. 
All meetings in which social-democratic, socialistic, 
or communistic tendencies came to light were to be 
dissolved. Public festivities and processions were 
regarded as meetings. 

3. Social-democratic, socialistic, and communistic 
publications of all kinds were to be interdicted, the 
local police dealing with home publications and the 
Chancellor with foreign ones. 

4. Stocks of prohibited works were to be con- 
fiscated, and the type, stones, or other apparatus used 
for printing might be likewise seized, and, on the 
interdict being confirmed, be made unusable. 

5. The collection of money in behalf of social- 
democratic, socialistic, or communistic movements 
was forbidden, as were public appeals for help. 

//. Penal 

I. Any person associating himself as member or 
otherwise with a prohibited organization was liable 


to a fine of 500 marks or three months' imprison- 
ment, and a similar penalty was incurred by anyone 
who gave a prohibited association or meeting a place 
of assembly. 

2. The circulation or printing of a prohibited pub- 
lication entailed a fine not exceeding one thousand 
marks or imprisonment up to six months. 

3. Convicted agitators might be expelled from a 
certain locality or from a governmental district, and 
foreigners be expelled from federal territory. 

4. Innkeepers, printers, booksellers, and owners 
of lending libraries and reading rooms who circu- 
lated interdicted publications might, besides being 
imprisoned, be deprived of their vocations. 

5. Persons who were known to be active social- 
ists, or who had been convicted under this law, might 
be refused permission publicly to circulate or sell 
publications, and any violation of the provision 
against the circulation of socialistic literature in 
inns, shops, libraries, and newsrooms was punish- 
able with a fine of one thousan,d marks or imprison- 
ment for six months. 

///. Power conferred upon authorities. 

1. Meetings may only take place with the previ- 
ous sanction of the police, but this restriction does 
not extend to meetings held in connection with elec- 
tions to the Reichstag or the Diets. 

2. The circulation of publications may not take 
place without permission in public roads, streets, 
squares, or other public places. 

3. Persons from whom danger to the public se- 
curity or order is apprehended may be refused resi- 
dence in a locality or governmental district. 


4. The possession, carrying, introduction, and 
sale of weapons within the area affected are forbid- 
den, restricted, or made dependent on certain con- 
ditions. All ordinances issued on the strength of 
this section were to be notified at once to the Reich- 
stag and to be published in the official Gazette. (26) 

When this law went into effect, the outlook for the la- 
bor movement seemed utterly bla ck and hopeless. Every 
path seemed closed to it except that of violence. Imme- 
diately many pla ces in Germany were'put iihdeFl nartia t 
law. S ocieties we re' dissolved, newspapers suppressed, 
pr inting esta blishments confiscated, and in ^a short time 
fifty agitators hadf been expel led f rom Ber lin alone. A 
reign of official tyranny and police persecution was estab- 
lished, and even the employers undertook to impoverish 
and to blacklist men who were thought to hold socialist 
views. Within a few w eeks ever y society, periodi cal, 
and agitator disappeared, and not a. thing^ seemed left of 
the great movement of half a million m en that had ex- 
iste d a few weeks before. There have been many simi- 
lar situations that have faced the socialist and labor 
movements of other countries. England and France had*; 
undergone similar trials. Even to-da y in America we 
fin d, at certain times and in certain places, a situation 
altogether similar. In Colorado during the recent labo r 
wars a nd in West Virginia during t h e early months o f 
IQ 13 every tyran ny that existed i n Germany in 1 879 
was repeated here. Infe sted with spies seeking to e n- 
courage violence, brutally maltreated by the officials of 
order, their property confisc ated by"the m ilitary, masses 
tfirow n int o prison and other masses exileq, even "th e 
Hprht nf asspmhlafrp and nf free spech denied them— 
these are thp fvarfly cim^igr nnnriitiQns which have ex- 


isted in all countries when efforts have been made to 
crush the labor movement. 

And in all countries where such conditions exist cer- 
tain minds immediately clamor for what is called "ac- 
tion." They want to answer violence with violence ; they 
want to respond to the terrorism of the Government with 
a terrorism of their own. And in Germany at this time 
there were a number who argued that, as they were in 
fact outlaws, why should they not adopt the tactics of 
outlaws? Should men peaceably and quietly submit to 
every insult and every form of tyranny — ^to be thrown 
in jail for speaking the dictates of their conscience and 
even to be hung for preaching to their comrades the 
necessity of a nobler and better social order? If Bis- 
marck and his police forces have the power to outlaw us, 
have we not the right to exercise the tactics of outlaws? 
"All measures," cried Most from London, "are legiti- 
mate against tyrants;" (27) while Hasselmann, his 
friend, advised an immediate insurrection, which, even 
though it should fail, would be good propaganda. It 
was inevitable that in the early moments of desjjair some 
of the German workers should have listened gladly to 
such proposals. And, indeed, it may seem somewhat of 
a miracle that any large number of the German workers 
should have been willing to have listened to any other 
means of action. What indeed else was there to do ? 

It is too long a story to go into the discussions over 
this question. Perhaps a principle of Bebel's gives the 
clearest explanation of the thought which eventually de- 
cided the tactics of the socialists. Bebel has said many 
times that he always considered it wise in politics to find 
out what his opponent wanted him to do, and then not 
to do it. And, to the minds of Bebel, Liebknecht, and 
others of the more clear-headed leaders, there was no 


doubt whatever that Bismarck was trying to force the 
sociaHsts to commit crimes and outrages. Again and 
again Bismarck's press declared: "What is most neces- 
sary is to provoke the social-democrats to commit acts of 
despair, to draw them into the open street, and there to 
shoot them down." (28) Well, if this was actually what 
Bismarck wanted, he failed utterly, because, as a matter 
of fact, and despite every provocation, no considerable 
section of the socialist party wavered in the slightest 
from its determination to carry on its work. There was 
a moment toward the end of '79 when the situation 
seemed to be getting out of hand, and a secret conference 
was held the next year at Wyden in Switzerland to de- 
termine the policies of the party. In the report pub- 
lished by the congress no names were given, as it was, of 
course, necessary to maintain complete secrecy. How- 
ever, it seemed clear to the delegates that, if they re- 
sorted to terrorist methods, they would be destroyed as 
the Russians, the French, the Spanish, and the Italians 
had been when similar conditions confronted them. In 
view of the present state of their organization, violence, 
after all, could be merely a phrase, as they were not fit- 
ted in strength or in numbers to combat Bismarck. One 
of the delegates considered that Johann Most had exer- 
cised an evil influence on many, and he urged that all 
enlightened German socialists turn away from such men. 
"Between the people of violence and the true revolution- 
ists there will always be dissension." (29) Another 
speaker maintained that Most could be no more consid- 
ered a socialist. He is at best a Blanquist and, indeed, 
one in the worst sense of the word, who had no other 
aim than to pursue the bungling work of a revolution. 
It is, therefore, necessary that the congress should de- 
clare itself decidedly against Most and should expel him 


from the party. (30) The word "revolution" has been 
misunderstood, and the socialist members of the Reich- 
stag have been reproved because they are not revolution- 
ary. As a matter of fact, every socialist is a revolution- 
ist, but one must not understand by revolution the ex- 
pression of violence. The tactics of desperation, as the 
Nihilists practice them, do not serve the purpose of Ger- 
many. (31) As a result of the Wyden congress. Most 
and Hasselmann were ejected from the party, and the 
tactics of Bebel and Liebknecht were adopted. 
. After 1880 there developed an underground socialist 
movement that was most baffling and disconcerting to the 
police. Socialist papers, printed in other countries, were 
being circulated by the thousands in all parts of Ger- 
many. Funds were being raised in some mysterious 
manner to support a large body of trusted men in all 
parts of the country who were devoting all their time 
to secret organization and to the carrying on of propa- 
ganda. The socialist organizations, which had been 
broken up, seemed somehow or other to maintain their 
relations. And, despite all that could be done by the 
authorities, socialist agitation seemed to be going on even 
more successfully than ever before. There was one loop- 
hole which Bismarck had not been able to close, and this 
of course was developed to the extreme by the social- 
ists. Private citizens could not say what they pleased, 
nor was it allowed to newspapers to print anything on 
socialist lines. Nevertheless, parliamentary speeches 
were privileged matter, and they could be sent anywhere 
and be published anywhere. Bismarck of course tried to 
suppress even this form of propaganda, and two of the 
deputies were arrested on the ground that they were vio- 
lating the new law. However, the Reichstag could not 
be induced to sanction this interference with the freedom 


of deputies. Bismarck then introduced a bill into the 
Reichstag asking for power to punish any member who 
abused his parliamentary position. There was to be a 
court established consisting of thirteen deputies, and this 
was to have power to punish refractory delegates by cen- 
suring them, by obliging them to apologize to the House, 
and by excluding them from the House. It was also 
proposed that the Reichstag should in certain instances 
prevent the publicity of its proceedings. This bill of Bis- 
marck's aroused immense opposition. It was called "the 
Muzzle Bill," and, despite all his efforts, it was defeated. 
The anti-socialist law had been passed as an excep- 
tional measure, and it was fully expected that at the end 
of two years there would be nothing left of the socialists 
in Germany. But, when the moment came for the law 
to expire. Emperor Alexander II. of Russia was assassi- 
nated by Nihilists. The German Emperor wrote to the 
Chancellor urging him to do his utmost to persuade the 
governments of Europe to combine against the forces of 
anarchy and destruction. Prince Bismarck immediately 
opened up negotiations with Russia, Austria, France, 
Switzerland, and England. The Russian Government, 
being asked to take the initiative, invited the powers to 
a council at Brussels. As England did not accept the in- 
vitation, France and Switzerland also declined. Austria 
later withdrew her acceptance, with the result that Ger- 
many and Russia concluded an extradition and dynamite 
treaty for themselves, while on March 31, 1 881, the anti- 
socialist law was reenacted for another period. In 1882 
the Niederwald plot against the Imperial family was dis- 
covered. Various arrests were made, and three men 
avowedly anarchists were sentenced to death in Decem- 
ber, 1884. In 1885 a high police official at Frankfort 
was murdered, and an anarchist named Lieske was ex- 


ecuted as an accomplice. These terrorist acts materially 
aided Bismarck in his warfare on the social democrats. 
Again and again large towns were put in a minor state 
of siege, with the military practically in control. Meet- 
ings were dispersed, suspected papers suppressed, and all 
tyranny that can be conceived of exercised upon all those 
suspected of sympathy with the socialists. Yet everyone 
had to admit that the socialists had not been checked. 
Not only did their organization still exist, but it was all 
the time carrying on a vigorous agitation, both by meet- 
ings and by the circulation of literature. Papers printed 
abroad were being smuggled into the country in great 
quantities ; socialist literature was even being introduced 
into the garrisons ; and there seemed to be no dealing with 
associations, because no more was one dissolved than two 
arose to take its place. 

Von Puttkamer himself reported to the Reichstag in 
1882, "It is undoubted that it has not been possible by 
means of the law of October, 1878, to wipe social-democ- 
racy from the face of the earth or even to shake it to 
the center." (32) Indeed, Liebknecht was bold enough 
to say in 1884: "You have not succeeded in destroying 
our organization, and I am convinced that you will never 
succeed. I believe, indeed, it would be the greatest mis- 
fortune for you if you did succeed. The anarchists, who 
are now carrying on their work in Austria, have no foot- 
ing in Germany — and why? Because in Germany the 
mad plans of those men are wrecked on the compact 
organization of social-democracy, because the German 
proletariat, in view of the fruitlessness of your socialist 
law, has not abandoned hope of attaining its ends peace- 
fully by means of socialistic propaganda and agitation. 
If — and I have said this before — if your law were not 
pro nihilo, it would be pro nihilismo. If the German 


proletariat no longer believed in the efficacy of our pres- 
ent tactics; if we found that we could no longer main- 
tain intact the organization and cohesion of the party, 
what would happen? We should simply declare — we 
have no more to do with the guidance of the party; we 
can no longer be responsible. The men in power do not 
wish that the party should continue to exist ; it is hoped 
to destroy us — well, no party allows itself to be de- 
stroyed, for there is above all things the law of self-de- 
fense, of self-preservation, and, if the organized direc- 
tion fails, you will have a condition of anarchy, in which 
everything is left to the individual. And do you really . 
believe — you who have so often praised the bravery of 
the Germans up to the heavens, when, it has been to your 
interest to do so — do you really believe that the hun- 
dreds of thousands of German social-democrats are cow- 
ards ? Do you believe that what has happened in Russia 
would not be possible in Germany if you succeeded in 
bringing about here the conditions which exist there?" 
(33) Both Bebel and Liebknecht taunted the Chancel- 
lor with his failure to drive the socialists to commit acts 
of violence. "The Government may be sure," said Lieb- 
knecht in 1886, "that we shall not, now or ever, go upon 
the bird-lime, that we shall never be such fools as to play 
the game of our. enemies by attempts . . . the more 
madly you carry on, the sooner you will come to the end ; 
the pitcher goes to the well until it breaks." (34) 

At the end of this year the reports given from the 
several states of the working out of the anti-socialist 
law were most discouraging to the Chancellor. From 
everywhere the report came that agitation was uninter- 
mittent, and being carried on with zeal and success. And 
Bebel said publicly that nowhere was the socialist party 
more numerous or better organized than in the districts 


where the minor state of siege had been proclaimed. 
The year 1886 was a sensational one. Nine of the so- 
cialists, including Bebel, Dietz, Auer, Von Vollmar, 
Frohme — all deputies — were charged with taking part in 
a secret and illegal organization. All the accused were 
sentenced to imprisonment for six or nine months, Bebel 
and his parliamentary associates receiving the heavier 
penalty. The Reichstag asked for reports upon the 
working of the law. Again the discouraging news came 
that the movement seemed to be growing faster than 
ever before. 

The crushing by repressive measures did not, however, 
exhaust Bismarck's plans for annihilating the socialists. 
At the same time he outlined an extraordinary program 
for winning the support of the working classes. Early in 
the eighties he proposed his great scheme of social legis- 
lation, intended to improve radically the lot of the toil- 
ers. Compulsory insurance against accident, illness, in- 
validity, and old age was instituted as a measure for giv- 
ing more security in life to the working classes. Insur- 
ance against unemployment was also proposed, and Bis- 
marck declared that the State should guarantee to the 
toilers the right to work. This began an era of immense 
social reforms that actually wiped out some of the worst 
slums in the great industrial centers, replaced them with 
large and beautiful dwellings for the working classes, and 
made over entire cities. The discussions in the Reich- 
stag now seemed to be largely concerned with the prob- 
lem of the working classes and with devising plans to 
obliterate the influence of the socialists over the workers 
and to induce them once more to ally themselves to the 
monarchy and to the Junkers. 

For some reason wholly mysterious to Bismarck, all 
his measures against the socialists failed. Every assault 


made upon them seemed to increase their power, while 
even the great reforms he was instituting seemed some- 
how to be credited to the agitation of the socialists. In- 
stead of proving the good will of the ruling class, these 
reforms seemed only to prove its weakness; and they 
were looked upon generally as belated efforts to remedy 
old and grievous wrongs which, in fact, made necessary 
the protests of the socialists. The result was that tens 
of thousands of workingmen were flocking each year into 
the camp of the socialists, and at each election the social- 
ist votes increased in a most dreadful and menacing man- 
ner. When the anti-socialist law was put into effect, the 
party polled under 450,000 votes. After twelve years of 
underground work as outlaws, the party polled 1,427,000 
votes,. Despite all the efforts of Bismarck and all the im- 
mense power of the Government, socialism, instead of be- 
ing crushed, was 1,000,000 souls stronger after twelve 
years of suffering under tyranny than it was in the be- 
ginning. This of course would not do at all, and every- 
one saw it clearly enough except the Iron Chancellor. In- 
furiated by his own failure and unwilling to confess de- 
feat, he pleaded once more, in 1890, for the reenactment 
of the anti-socialist law and, indeed, that it should be 
made a permanent part of the penal code of the Empire. 
He even sought further powers and asked the Reichstag 
to give him a law that would enable him to expel not only 
from districts proclaimed to be in a state of siege, but 
from Germany altogether, those who were known to 
hold socialist views. The Reichstag, however, refused 
to grant him either request, and on September 30, 1890, 
just twelve years after its birth, the anti-socialist law 
was repealed. 

That night was a glorious one for the socialists, as 
well as a very dreadful one for Bismarck and those 


Others who had made prodigious but futile efforts to de- 
stroy socialism. Berlin was already a socialist, strong- 
hold, and its entire people that night came into the streets 
to sing songs of thanksgiving. Streets, parks, public 
places, cafes, theaters were filled with merrymakers, re- 
joicing with songs, with toasts to the leading socialists, 
and with boisterous welcomes to the exiles who were re- 
turning. All night long the red flag waved, and the Mar- 
seillaise was sung, as all that passion of love, enthusiasm, 
and devotion for a great cause, which, for twelve long 
years, had been brutally suppressed, burst forth in floods 
of joy. "He [Bismarck] has had at his entire disposal 
for more than a quarter of a century," said Liebknecht, 
"the police, the army, the capital, and the power of the 
State — in brief, all the means of mechanical force. We 
had only our just right, our firm conviction, our bared 
breasts to oppose him with, and it is we who have con- 
quered! Our arms were the best. In the course of time 
brute power must yield to the moral factors, to the logic 
of things. Bismarck lies crushed to the earth — and so- 
cial democracy is the strongest party in Get;many! 
. . . The essence of revolution lies not in the means, 
but in the end. Violence ' has been, for thousands of 
years, a reactionary factor." (35) Certainly, the moral 
victory was immense. There had been a twelve-years- 
long torture of a great party, in which every man who 
was known to be sympathetic was looked upon as a crim- 
inal and an outlaw. Yet, despite every effort made to 
drive the socialists into outrages, they never wavered the 
slightest from their grim determination to depend solely 
upon peaceable methods. It is indeed marvelous that the 
German socialists should have stood the test and that, 
despite the most barbarous persecution, they should have 
been able to hold their forces together, to restrain their 


natural anger, and to keep their faith in the ultimate vic- 
tory of peaceable, legal, and political methods. Prome- 
theus, bound to his rock and tortured by all the furies of 
a malignant Jupiter, did not rise superior to his tormen- 
tor with more grandeur than did the social democracy of 

Violence does indeed seem to be a reactionary force. 
The use of it by the anarchists against the existing 
regime seems to have deprived them of all sympathy 
and support. More and more they became isolated from 
even those in whose name they claimed to be fighting. 
So the violence of Bismarck, intended to uproot and 
destroy the deepest convictions of a great body of work- 
ingmen, deprived him and his circle of all popular sym- 
pathy and support. Year by year he became weaker, 
and the futility of his efforts made him increasingly bit- 
ter and violent. At last even those for whom he had 
been fighting had to put him aside. On the other hand, 
those he fought with his poisoned weapons became 
stronger and stronger, their spirit grew more and more 
buoyant, their confidence in success more and more cer- 
tain. And, when at last the complete victory was won, 
it was heralded throughout the world, and from thou- 
sands of great meetings, held in nearly every civilized 
country, there came to the German social democracy tele- 
grams and resolutions of congratulation. The mere fact 
that the Germany party polled a million and a half votes 
was in itself an inspiration to the workers of all lands, 
and in the elections which followed in France, Italy, Bel- 
gium, Denmark, Sweden, and other countries the social- 
ists vastly increased their votes and more firmly estabr 
lished their position as a parliamentary force. In 1892 
France polled nearly half a million votes, little Belgium 
followed with three hundred and twenty thousand, while 


in Denmark and Switzerland the strength of the social- 
ists was quadrupled. Instead of a mere handful of the- 
orists, the socialists were now numbered by the million. 
Their movement was world-wide, and the program of 
every political party in the various countries was based 
upon the principles laid down by Marx. The doctrines 
which he had advocated from '47 to '64, and fought des- 
perately to retain throughout all the struggles with Ba- 
kounin, were now the foundation principles of the move- 
ment in Germany, France, Italy, Austria, Switzerland, 
Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Britain, 
and even in other countries east and west of Europe. 



At the beginning of the nineties the socialists were 
jubilant. Their great victory in Germany and the enor- 
mous growth of the movement in all countries assured 
them that the foundations had at last been laid for the 
great world-wide movement that they had so long 
dreamed of. Internal struggles had largely disappeared, 
and the mighty energies of the movement were being 
turned to the work of education and of organization. 
Great international socialist congresses were now the 
natural outgrowth of powerful and extensive national 
movements. Yet, almost at this very moment there was 
forming in the Latin countries a new group of dissi- 
dents who were endeavoring to resurrect what Bakounin 
called in 1871 French socialism, and what our old friend 
Guillaume recognized tp be a revival of the principles 
and methods of the anarchist International.* And, in- 
deed, in 1895, what may perhaps be best described as the 
renascence of anarchism appeared in France under an 
old and influential name. Up to that time syndicalism 
signified nothing more than trade unionism, and the 
French syndicats were merely associations of workmen 
struggling to obtain higher wages and shorter hours of 
labor. But in 1895 the term began to have a different 

*His words are: "What is the General Confederation of 
Labor, if not the continuation of the International ?" Documents 
et Souvenirs, Vol. IV, p. vii. 



meaning, and almost immediately it made the tour of the 
world as a unique and dreadful revolutionary philosophy. 
It became a new "red specter," with a menacing and 
subversive program, that created a veritable furore of 
discussion in the newspapers and magazines of all coun- 
tries. Rarely has a movement aroused such universal 
agitation, awakened such world-wide discussions, and 
called forth such expressions of alarm as this one, that 
seemed suddenly to spring from the depths of the under- 
world, full-armed and ready for battle. Everywhere 
syndicalism was heralded as an entirely new philosophy. 
Nothing like it had ever been known before in the world. 
Multitudes rushed to greet it as a kind of new revela- 
tion, while other multitudes instinctively looked upon it 
with suspicion as something that promised once more to 
introduce dissension into the world of labor. 

What is syndicalism ? Whence came it and why ? The 
first question has been answered in a hundred books 
written in the last ten years. In all languages the mean- 
ing of this new philosophy of industrial warfare has been 
made clear. There is hardly a country in the world that 
has not printed several books on this new movement, 
and, although the word itself cannot be found in our 
dictionaries, hardly anyone who reads can have escaped 
gaining some acquaintance with its purport. The other 
question, however, has concerned few, and almost no one 
has traced the origin of syndicalism to that militant group 
of anarchists whom the French Government had endeav- 
ored to annihilate. After the series of tragedies which 
ended with the .murder of Carnot, the French police 
hunted the anarchists from pillar to post. Their groups 
were broken up, their papers suppressed, and their lead- 
ers kept constantly under the surveillance of police 
agents. Every man with anarchist sympathies was 


hounded as an outlaw, and in 1894 they were broken, 
scattered, and isolated. Scorning all relations with the 
political groups and indeed excluded from them, as from 
other sections of the labor movement, by their own tac- 
tics, they found themselves almost alone, without the op- 
portunity even of propagating their views. Facing a 
blank wall, they began then to discuss the necessity of 
radically changing their tactics, and in that year one of 
the most militant of them, ^fimile Pouget, who had been 
arrested several times for provoking riots, undertook to 
persuade his associates to enter actively into the trade 
unions. In his peculiar argot he wrote in Pere Peinard: 
"If there is a group into which the anarchists should 
thrust themselves, it is evidently the trade union. The 
coarse vegetables would make an awful howl if the an- 
archists, whom they imagine they have gagged, should 
profit by the circumstance to infiltrate themselves in 
droves into the trade unions and spread their ideas there 
without any noise or blaring of trumpets." (i) This 
plea had its effect, and more and more anarchists began 
to join the trade unions, while their friends, already in 
the unions, prepared the way for their coming. Pellou- 
tier, a zealous and efficient administrator, had already 
become the dominant spirit in one entire section of the 
French labor movement, thatof the Bourses du Travail. 
In another section, the carpenter Tortellier, a roving agi- 
tator and militant anarchist, had already persuaded a 
large number of unions to declare for the general strike 
as the sole effective weapon for revolutionary purposes. 
Moreover, Guerard, Griffuelhes, and other opponents of 
political action were preparing the ground in the unions 
for an open break with the socialists. By 1896 the 
strength of the anarchists in the trade unions was so 
great that the French dele^^ates to the international so- 


cialist congress at London were divided into two sections : 
one in sympathy with the views of the anarchists, the 
other hostile to them. Such notable anarchists as Tortel- 
lier, Malatesta, Grave, Pouget, Pelloutier, Delesalle, 
Hamon, and Guerard were sent to London as the repre- 
sentatives of the French trade unions. Although the 
anarchists had been repeatedly expelled from socialist 
congresses, and the rules prohibited their admittance, 
these men could not be denied a hearing so long as they 
came as the representatives of bona Me trade unions. As 
a result, the anarchists, speaking as trade unionists, 
fought throughout the congress against political action. 
A typical declaration was that of Tortellier, when he 
said : "If only those in favor of political action are ad- 
mitted to congresses, the Latin races will abandon the 
congresses. The Italians are drifting away from the 
idea of political action. Properly organized, the workers 
can settle their affairs without any intervention on the 
part of the legislature." (2) Guerard, of the railway 
workers, holding much the same views, urged the con- 
gress to adopt the general strike, on the ground that it is 
"the most revolutionary weapon we have." (3) Despite 
their threats and demands, the anarchists were com- 
pletely ignored, although they were numerous in the 
French, Italian, Spanish, and Dutch delegations. At last 
it became clear to the anarchists that the international, 
socialist congresses would not admit them, if it were 
possible to keep them out, nor longer discuss with 
them the wisdom of political action. Consequently, 
the anarchists left London, clear at last on this one point, 
that the socialists were firmly determined to have no fur- 
ther dealings with them. The same decision had been 
made at The Hague in 1872, again in 1889 at the interna- 


tional congress at Paris, then in 1891 at Brussels, again 
in 1893 at Zurich, and finally at London in 1896. 

The anarchists that returned to Paris from the Lon- 
don congress were not slow in taking their revenge. 
They had already threatened in London to take the work- 
ers of the Latin countries out of the socialist movement, 
but no one apparently had given much heed to their re- 
marks. In reality, however, they were in a position to 
carry out their threats, and the insults which they felt 
they had just suifered at the hands of the socialists 
made them more determined than ever to induce the 
unions to declare war on the socialist parties of France, 
Italy, Spain, and Holland. Plans were also laid for the 
building up of a trade-union International based largely 
on the principles and tactics of what they now called 
"revolutionary syndicalism." 

The year before (1895) the General Confederation of 
Labor had been launched at Limoges. Except for its 
declaration in favor of the general strike as a revolu- 
tionary weapon, the congress developed no new syndi- 
calist doctrines. It was at Tours, in 1896, that the 
French unions, dominated by the anarchists, declared 
they would no longer concern themselves with reforms; 
they would abandon childish efforts at amelioration ; and 
instead they would constitute themselves into a con- 
scious fighting minority that was to lead the working 
class with no further delay into open rebellion. In their 
opinion, it was time to begin the bitter, implacable fight 
that was not to end until the working class had freed it- 
self from wage slavery. The State was not worth con- 
quering, parliaments were inherently corrupt, and, there- 
fore, political action was futile. Other means, more 
direct and revolutionary, must be employed to destroy 
capitalism. As the very existence of society depends 


upon the services of labor, what could be more simple 
than for labor to cease to serve society until its rights 
are assured? Thus argued the French trade unionists, 
and the strike was adopted as the supreme war measure. 
Partial strikes were to broaden into industrial strikes, 
and industrial strikes into general strikes. The struggle 
between the classes was to take the form of two hostile 
camps, firmly resolved upon a war that would finish only 
when the one or the other of the antagonists had been 
utterly crushed. When John Brown marched with his 
little band to attack the slave-owning aristocracy of the 
South, he became the forerunner of our terrible Civil 
War. It was the same spirit that moved the French 
trade unionists. Although pitiably weak in numbers and 
poor in funds, they decided to stop all parleyings with 
the enemy and to fire the first gun. 

The socialist congress in London was held in July, 
and the French trade-union congress at Tours was held 
in September of the same year. The anarchists were out 
in their full strength, prepared to make reprisals on the 
socialists. It was after declaring : "The conquest of po- 
litical power is a chimera," (4) that Guerard launched 
forth in his fiery argument for the revolutionary general 
strike: "The partial strikes fail because the working- 
men become demoralized and succumb under the intimi- 
dation of the employers, protected by the government. 
The general strike will last a short while, and its repres- 
sion will be impossible ; as to intimidation, it is still less 
to be feared. The necessity of defending the factories, 
workshops, manufactories, stores, etc., will scatter and 
disperse the army. . . . And then, in the fear that 
the strikers may damage the railways, the signals, the 
works of art, the government will be obliged to protect 
the 39,ocx3 kilometers of railroad lines by drawing up the 


troops all along them. The 300,000 men of the active 
anny, charged with the surveillance of 39 million meters, 
will be isolated from one another by 130 meters, and this 
can be done only on the condition of abandoning the pro- 
tection of the depots, of the stations, of the factories, 
etc. . . . and of abandoning the employers to them- 
selves, thus leaving the field free in the large cities to the 
rebellious workingmen. The principal force of the gen- 
eral strike consists in its power of imposing itself. A 
strike in one branch of industry must involve other 
branches. The general strike cannot be decreed in ad- 
vance; it will burst forth suddenly; a strike of the rail- 
way men, for instance, if declared, will be the signal for 
the general strike. It will be the duty of militant work- 
ingmen, when this signal is given, to make their com- 
rades in the trade unions leave their work. Those who 
continue to work on that day will be compelled, or forced, 
to quit. . . . The general strike will be the Revolu- 
tion, peaceful or not." (5) 

Here is a new program of action, several points of 
which are worthy of attention. It is clear that the gen- 
eral strike is here conceived of as a panacea, an unfailing 
weapon that obviates the necessity of political parties, 
parliamentary work, or any action tending toward the 
capture of political power. It is granted that it must 
end in civil war, but it is thought that this war cannot 
fail ; it must result in a complete social revolution. Even 
more significant is the thought that it will burst forth 
suddenly, without requiring any preliminary education, 
extensive preparations, or even widespread organization. 
In one line it is proposed as an automatic revolution; in 
another it is said that the militant workingmen are ex- 
pected to force the others to quit work. Out of 11,000,- 
000 toilers in France, about 1,000,000 are organized. Out 


of this million, about 400,000 belong to the Confedera- 
tion, and, out of this number, it is doubtful if half are 
in favor of a general strike. The proposition of Guer- 
ard then presents itself as follows: that a minority of 
organized men shall force not only the vast majority 
of their fellow unionists but twenty times their number 
of unorganized men to quit work in order to launch the 
war for emancipation. Under the compulsion of 200,000 
men, a nation of 40,000,000 is to be forced immediately, 
without palaver or delay, to revolutionize society. 

The next year, at Toulouse, the French unions again 
assembled, and here it was that Pouget and Delesalle, 
both anarchists, presented the report which outlined still 
another war measure, that of sabotage. The newly ar- 
rived was there baptized, and received by all, says Pou- 
get, with warm enthusiasm. This sabotage was hardly 
born before it, too, made a tour of the world, creating 
everywhere the same furore of discussion that had been 
aroused by syndicalism. It presents itself in such a mul- 
titude of forms that it almost evades definition. If a 
worker is badly paid and returns bad work for bad pay, 
he is a saboteur. If a strike is lost, and the workmen 
return only to break the machines, spoil the products, 
and generally disorganize a factory, they are saboteurs. 
The idea of sabotage is that any dissatisfied workman 
shall undertake to break the machine or spoil the product 
of the machines in order to render the conduct of in- 
dustry unprofitable, if not actually impossible. It may 
range all the way from machine obstruction or destruc- 
tion to dynamiting, train wrecking, and arson. It may 
be some petty form of malice, or it may extend to every 
act advocated by our old friends, the terrorists. 

The work of one other congress must be mentioned. 
At Lyons (1901) it was decided that an inquiry should 


be sent out to all the affiliated unions to. find out exactly 
how the proposed great social revolution was to be car- 
ried out. For several years the Confederation had 
sought to launch a revolutionary general strike, but so 
many of the rank and file were asking, "What would we 
do, even if the general strike were successful?" that it 
occurred to the leaders it might be well to find out. As 
a result, they sent out the following list of questions: 
"(i) How would your union act in order to transform 
itself from a group for combat into a group for produc- 

"(2) How would you act in order to take possession 
of the machinery pertaining to your industry? 

"(3) How do you conceive the functions of the or- 
ganized shops and factories in the future? 

"(4) If your union is a group within the system of 
highways, of transportation of products or of passengers, 
of distribution, etc., how do you conceive of its func- 
tioning ? 

"(5) What will be your relations to your federation of 
trade or of industry after your reorganization ? 

"(6) On what principle would the distribution of 
products take place, and how would the productive 
groups procure the raw material for themselves ? 

"(7) What part would the Bourses du Travail play 
in the transformed society, and what would be their task 
with reference to the statistics and to the distribution of 
products?" (6) 

The report dealing with the results of this inquiry con- 
tains such a variety of views that it is not easy to sum- 
marize it. It seems, however, to have been more or less 
agreed that each group of producers was to control the 
industry in which it was engaged. ' The peasants were to 
take the land. The miners were to take the mines. The 


railway workers were to take the railroads. Every trade 
union was to obtain possession of the tools of its trade, 
and the new society was to be organized on the basis 
of a trade-union ownership of industry. In the villages, 
towns, and cities the various trades were then to be or- 
ganized into a federation whose duty would be to ad- 
minister all matters of joint interest in their localities. 
The local federations were then to be united into a Gen- 
eral Confederation, to whose administration were to be 
left only those public services which were of national im- 
portance. The General Confederation was also to serve 
as an intermediary between the various trades and locals 
and as an agency for representing the interests of all the 
unions in international relations. 

This is in brief the meaning of syndicalism. It differs 
from socialism in both aim and methods. The aim of 
the latter is the control by the community of the means 
of production. The aim of syndicalism is the control 
by autonomous trade unions of that production carried 
on by those trades. It does not seek to refashion the 
State or to aid in its evolution toward social democracy. 
It will have nothing to do with political action or with 
any attempt to improve the machinery of democracy. 
The masses must arise, take possession of the mines, 
factories, railroads, fields, and all industrial processes 
and natural resources, and then, through trade unions or 
industrial unions, administer the new economic system. 
Furthermore, the syndicalists differ from the socialists 
in their conception of the class struggle. To the social- 
ist the capitalist is as much the product of our economic 
system as the worker. No socialist believes that the 
capitalist is individually to blame for our economic ills. 
The syndicalist dissents from this view. To him the 
capitalist is an individual enemy. He must be fought 


and destroyed. There is no form of mediation or con- 
ciliation possible between the worker and his employer. 
Conditions^ must, therefore, be made intolerable for the 
capitalist.; Work must be done badly. Machines must 
be destroyed. Industrial processes must be subjected to 
chaos. Every worker must be inspired with the one end 
and aim of destruction. Without the cooperation of the 
worker, capitalist production must break down. There- 
fore, the revolutionary syndicalist will fight, if possible, 
openly through his union, or, if that is impossible, by 
stealth, as an individual, to ruin his employer. The world 
of to-day is to be turned into incessant civil war between 
capital and labor. Not only the two classes, but the indi- 
viduals of the two classes, must be constantly engaged 
in a deadly conflict. There is to be no truce until the 
fight is ended. The loyal workman is to be considered a 
traitor. The union that makes contracts or participates 
in collective bargaining is to be ostracized. And even 
those who are disinclined to battle will be forced into 
the ranks'by compulsion. "Those who continue to work 
will be compelled to quit," says Guerard. The strike is 
not to be merely a peaceable abstention from work. The 
very machines are to be made to strike by being ren- 
dered incapable of production. These are the methods 
of the militant revolutionary syndicalists.* 

Toward the end of the nineties another element came 
to the aid of the anarchists. It is difficult to class this 
group with any certainty. They are neither socialists nor 

* In justice to the French unions it must be said that a large 
number, probably a considerable majority, do not share these 
views. The views of the latter are almost identical with those 
of the American and English unions; but at present the new 
anarchists are in the saddle, although their power appears to be 


anarchists. They remind one of those Bakouninists that 
Marx once referred to as "lawyers without cases, physi- 
cians without patients and knowledge, students of bil- 
liards, etc." (7) "They are good-natured, gentlemanly, 
cultured people," says Sombart; "people with spotless 
linen, good manners and fashionably dressed wives ; peo- 
ple with whom one holds social intercourse as with one's 
equals; people who would at first sight hardly be taken 
as the representatives of a new movement whose object 
it is to prevent socialism from becoming a mere middle- 
class belief." (8) In a word, they appear to be indi- 
viduals wearied with the unrealities of life and seeking 
to overcome their ennui by, at any rate, discussing the 
making of revolutions. With their "myths," their "re- 
flections on violence," their appeals to physical vigor and 
to the glory of combat, as well as with their incessant 
attacks on the socialist movement, they have given very 
material aid to the anarchist element in the syndicalist 
movement. For a number of years I have read faith- 
fully Le Mouvement Socialiste, but I confess that I have 
not understood their dazzling metaphysics, and I am 
somewhat comforted to see that both Levine (9) and 
Lewis (10) find them frequently incomprehensible. 

Without injustice to this group of intellectuals, I think 
it may be truthfully said that they have contributed noth- 
ing essential to the doctrines of syndicalism as developed 
by the trades unionists themselves; and Edward Berth, 
in Les Nouveaux Aspects du Socialisme, has partially ex- 
plained why, without meaning to do so. "It has often 
been observed," he says, "that the anarchists are by 
origin artisan, peasant, or aristocrat. Rousseau repre- 
sents, obviously, the anarchism of the artisan. His re- 
» public is a little republic of free and independent crafts- 
men. . . . Proudhon is a peasant in his heart . . . and, 


if we finally take Tolstoi, we find here an anarchism of 
worldly or aristocratic origin. Tolstoi is a blase aristo- 
crat, disgusted with civilization by having too much eaten 
of it." (11) Whether or not this characterization of Tol- 
stoi is justified, there can be no question that many of this 
type rushed to the aid of syndicalism. Its savage vigor 
appeals to some artists, decadents, and dedasses. Neuro- 
tic as a rule, they seem to hunger for the stimulus which 
comes by association with the merely physical power and 
vigor of the working class. The navvy, the coalheaver, 
or "yon rower . . . the muscles all a-ripple on his back," 
(12) awakens in them a worshipful admiration, even as it 
did in the eifete Cleon. Such a theory as syndicalism, 
declares Sombart, "could only have grown up in a coun- 
try possessing so high a culture as France ; that it could 
have been thought out only by minds of the nicest per- 
ception, by people who have become quite blase, whose 
feelings require a very strong stimulus before they can 
be stirred; people who have something of the artistic 
temperament, and, consequently, look disdainfully on 
what has been called 'Philistinism' — on business, on mid- 
dle-class ideals, and so forth. They are, as it were, the 
fine silk as contrasted with the plain wool of ordinary 
people. They detest the common, everyday round as 
much as they hate what is natural; they might be called 
'Social Sybarites.' Such are the people who have created 
the syndicalist system." (13) On one point Sombart is 
wrong. All the essential doctrines of revolutionary syn- 
dicalism, as a matter of fact, originated with the an- 
archists, in the unions, and the most that can be said for 
the "Sybarites" is that they elaborated and mystified 
these doctrines. 

There are those, of course, who maintain that syndical- 
ism is wholly a natural and inevitable product of eco- 


nomic forces, and, so far as the actual syndicalist move- 
ment is concerned, that is unquestionably true. But in all 
the maze of philosophy and doctrine that has been thrown 
about the actual French movement, we find the traces of 
two extraneous forces — the anarchists who availed them- 
selves of the opportunity that an awakening trade union- 
ism gave them, and those intellectuals of leisure, culture, 
and refinement who found the methods of political social- 
ism too tame to satisfy their violent revolt against things 
bourgeois. And the philosophical syndicalism that was 
born of this union combines utopianism and anarchism. 
The yearning esthetes found satisfaction in the rugged 
energy and physical daring of the men of action, while 
the latter were astonished and flattered 'to find their 
simple war measures adorned with metaphysical abstrac- 
tions and arousing an immense furore among the most 
learned and fashionable circles of Europe. 

However, something in addition to personality is 
needed to explain the rise of syndicalist sociailism in 
France. Like anarchism, syndicalism is a natural prod- 
uct of certain French and Italian conditions. It is not 
strange that the Latin peoples have in the past harbored 
the ideas of anarchism, or that now they harbor the ideas 
of syndicalism. The enormous proportion of small prop- 
erty owners in the French nation is the economic basis 
for a powerful individualism. Anything which interferes 
with the liberty of the individual is abhorred, and noth- 
ing awakens a more lively hatred than centralization and 
State power. The vast extent of small industry, with 
the apprentice, journeyman, and master- workman, has 
wielded an influence over the mentality of the French 
workers. Berth, for instance, follows Proudhon in con- 
ceiving of the future commonwealth as a federation of 
innumerable little workshops. Gigantic industries, such 


as are known in Germany, England, and America, seem 
to be problems quite foreign to the mind of the typical 
Latin worker. He believes that, if he can be left alone 
in his little industry, and freed from exploitation, he, 
like the peasant, will be supreme, possessing both liberty 
and abundance. He will, therefore, tolerate willingly 
neither the interference of a centralized State nor favor 
a centralized syndicalism. Industry must be given into 
the hands of the workers, and, when he speaks of indus- 
try, he has in mind workshops, which, in the socialism of 
the Germans, the English, and the Americans, might be 
left for a long time to come in private hands. 

In harmony with the above facts, we find that the 
strongest centers of syndicalism in France, Italy, and 
Spain are in those districts where the factory system is 
very backward. Where syndicalism and anarchism pre- 
vail most strongly, we find conditions of economic im- 
maturity which strikingly resemble those of England in 
the time of Owen. In all these districts trade unionism is 
undeveloped. When it exists at all, it is more a feeling 
out for solidarity than the actual existence of solidarity./ 
It is the first groping toward unity that so often bringsl 
riots and violence, because organization is absent and] 
the feeling of power does not exist. Carl Legien, thi 
leader of the great German unions, said at the interna- 
tional socialist congress at Stuttgart (1907) : "As soon 
as the French have an actual trade-union organization, 
they will cease discussing blindly the general strike, di- 
rect action, and sabotage." (14) Vliegen, the Dutch 
leader, went even further when he declared at the previ- 
ous congress, at Amsterdam (1904), that it is not the 
representatives of the strong organizations of England, 
Germany, and Denmark who wish the general strike ; it is 
the representatives of France, Russia, and Holland, 


where the trade-union organization is feeble or does not 
exist. (15) 

Still another factor forces the French trade unions 
to rely upon violence, and that is their poverty. The 
trade-unionists in the Latin countries dislike to pay 
dues, and the whole organized labor movement as a re- 
sult lives constantly from hand to mouth. "The funda- 
mental condition which determines the policy of direct 
action," says Dr. Louis Levine in his excellent mono- 
graph on "The Laboi" Movement in France," "is the pov 
erty of French syndicalism. Except for the Federation 
du Livre, only a very few federations pay a more or less 
regular strike benefit ; the rest have barely means enough 
to provide for their administrative and organizing ex- 
penses and cannot collect any strike funds worth mention- 
ing. . . . The French workingmen, therefore, are forced 
to fall back on other means during strikes. Quick action, 
intimidation, sabotage, are then suggested to them by 
their very situation and by their desire to win." (16) 
That this is an accurate analysis is, I think, proved by 
the fact that the biggest strikes and the most unruly are 
invariably to be found at the very beginning of the 
attempts to organize trade unions. That is certainly 
true of England, and in our own country the great strikes 
of the seventies were the birth-signs of trade unionism. 
In France, Italy, and Spain, where trade unionism is still 
in its infancy, we find that strikes are more unruly and 
violent than in other countries. It is a mistake to believe 
that riots, sabotage, and crime are the result of organiza- 
tion, or the product of a philosophy of action. They are 
the acts of the weak and the desperate; the product of 
a mob psychology that seems to be roused to action when- 
ever and wherever the workers first begin to realize the 
faintest glimmering of solidarity. History clearly proves 


that turbulence in strikes tends to disappear as the work- 
ers develop organized strength. In most countries viw=--\ 
lence has been frankly recognized as a weakness, and j 
tremendous efforts have been made by the workers them- I 
selves to render violence unnecessary by developing power / 
through organization. But in France the very acts that j 
result from weakness and despair have been greeted | 
with enthusiasm by the anarchists and the effete Intel- I 
lectuals as the beginning of new and improved revolu- \ 
tionary methods. ; 

Both, then, in their philosophy and in their methods, 
anarchism and syndicalism have much in common, but 
there also exist certain differences which cannot be over- 
looked. Anarchism is a doctrine of individualism; syn- 
dicalism is a doctrine of working-class action. Anarchism 
appeals only to the individual; syndicalism appeals also 
to a class. Furthermore, anarchism is a remnant of 
eighteenth-century philosophy, while syndicalism is a 
product of an immature factory system. Marx and 
Engels frequently spoke of anarchism as a petty-bour- 
geois philosophy, but in the early syndicalism of Robert 
Owen they saw more than that, considering it as the 
forerunner of an actual working-class movement. When 
these differences have been stated, there is little more to 
be said, and, on the whole, Yvetot was justified in say- 
ing at the congress of Toulouse (1910) : "I am re- 
proached with confusing syndicalism and anarchism. It 
is not my fault if anarchism and syndicalism have the 
same ends in view. The former pursues the integral 
emancipation of the individual; the latter the integral 
emancipation of the workingman. I find the whole of 
syndicalism in anarchism." (17) When we leave 
the theories of syndicalism to study its methods, we 
find them identical with those of the anarchists. The 


general strike is, after all, exactly the same method that 
Bakounin was constantly advocating in the days of the 
old International. The only difference is this, that Ba- 
kounin sought the aid of "the people," while the syndical- 
ists rely upon the working class. Furthermore, when one 
places the statement of Guerard on the general strike* 
alongside of the statement of Kropotkin on the revolu- 
tion,t one can observe no important difference. 

While it is true that some syndicalists believe that the 
general strike may be solely a peaceable abstention from 
work, most of them are convinced that such a strike 
would surely meet with defeat. As Buisson says: "If 
the general strike remains the revolution of folded arms, 
if it does not degenerate into a violent insurrection, one 
cannot see how a cessation of work of fifteen, thirty, or 
even sixty days could bring into the industrial regime 
and into the present social system changes great enough 
to determine their fall." (18) To be sure, the syndical- 
ists do not lay so much emphasis on the abolition of 
government as do the anarchists, but their plan leads to 
nothing less than that. If "the capitalist class is to be 
locked out" — whatever that may mean — one must con- 
clude that the workers intend in some manner without 
the use of public powers to gain control of the tools of 
production. In any case, they will be forced, in order 
to achieve any possible success, to take the factories, the 
mines, and the mills and to put the work of production 
into the hands of the masses. If the State interferes, as 
it undoubtedly will in the most vigorous manner, the 
strikers will be forced to fight the State. In other words, 
the general strike will necessarily become an insurrection, 
and the people without arms will be forced to carry on a 

* See pp. 234, 23s, supra. 
t See p. 52, supra. 


civil war against the military powers of the Government. 

If the general strike, therefore, is only insurrection 
in disguise, sabotage is but another name for the Propa- 
ganda of the Deed. Only, in this case, the deed is to be 
committed against the capitalist, while with the older 
anarchists a crowned head, a general, or a police official 
was the one to be destroyed. To-day property is to be 
assailed, machines broken and smashed, mines flooded, 
telegraph wires cut, and any other methods used that will 
render the tools of production unusable. This deed may 
be committed en masse, or it may be committed by an 
individual. It is when Pouget grows enthusiastic over 
sabotage that we find in him the same spirit that actuated 
Brousse and Kropotkin when they despaired of education 
and sought to arouse the people by committing dramatic 
acts of violence. In other words, the saboteur abandons 
mass action in favor of ineffective and futile assaults 
upon men or property. 

This brief survey of the meaning of syndicalism, 
whence it came, and why, explains the antagonism that 
had to arise between it and socialism.* Not only was it 
frankly intended to displace the socialist political parties 

*I have not dealt in this chapter with the Industrial Workers 
of the World, which is the American representative of syndi- 
calist ideas. First, because the American organization has d e- 
veloped no theories of importance. Their chief work has been 
to popularize some of the French ideas. Second, because the 
I. W. W. has not yet won for itself a place in the labor move- 
ment. It has done much agitation, but as yet no organization 
to speak of. Furthermore, there is great confusion of ideas 
among the various factions and elements, and it would be diffi- 
cult to state views which are held in common by all of them. 
It should be said, however, that all the American syndicalists 
have emphasized industrial unionism, that is to say, organiza- 
tion by industries instead of by crafts — an idea that the French 
lay no stress upon. ^ 



of Europe, but every step it has taken was accompanied 
with an attack upon, the doctrines and the methods of 
modern socialism. And, in fact, the syndicalists are most 
interesting when they leave their own thoeries and turn 
their guns upon the socialist parties of the present day. 
In reading the now extensive literature on syndicalism, 
one finds endless chapters devoted to pointing out the 
weaknesses and faults of political socialism. Like the 
Bakouninists, the chief strength of the revolutionary 
unionists lies in criticism rather than in any constructive 
thought or action of their own. The battle of to-day 
is, however, a very unequal one. In the International, 
two groups — comparatively alike in size — fought over 
certain theories that, up to that time, were not embodied 
in a movement. They quarreled over tactics that were 
yet untried and over theories that were then purely specu- 
lative. To-day the syndicalists face a foe that embraces 
millions of loyal adherents. At the international gather- 
ings of trade-union officials, as well as at the immense 
international congresses of the socialist parties, the syndi- 
calists find themselves in a hopeless minority.* Socialism 
is no longer an unembodied project of Marx. It is a 
throbbing, moving, struggling force. It is in a daily fight 
with the evils of capitalism. It is at work in every strike, 
in every great agitation, in every parliament, in every 
council. It is a thing of incessant action, whose mistakes 
are many and whose failures stand out in relief. Those 

* At the Sixth International Conference of the National Trade 
Union Centers, held in Paris, 1909, the French syndicalists en- 
deavored to persuade the trade unions to hold periodical inter- 
national trade-union congresses that would rival the interna- 
tional socialist congresses. The proposition was so strongly op- 
posed by all countries except France that the motion was with- 


who have betrayed it can be pointed out. Those who have 
lost all revolutionary fervor and all notion of class can 
be held up as a tendency. Those who have fallen into 
the traps of the bureaucrats and have given way to the 
flattery or to the corruption of the bourgeoisie can be 
listed and put upon the index. Even working-class 
political action can be assailed as never before, because 
it now exists for the first time in history, and its every 
weakness is known. Moreover, there are the slowness of 
movement and the seemingly increasing tameness of the 
multitude. All these incidents in the growth of a vast 
movement — ^the rapidity of whose development has 
never been equaled in the history of the world — irritate 
beyond measure the impatient and ultra-revolutionary ex- 
ponents of the new anarchism. 

Naturally enough, the criticisms of the syndicalists 
are leveled chiefly against political action, parliamentar- 
ism, and Statism. It is Professor Arturo Labriola, the 
brilliant leader of the Italian syndicalists, who has voiced 
perhaps most concretely these strictures against socialism, 
although they abound in all syndicalist writings. Ac- 
cording to Labriola, the socialist parties have abandoned 
Marx. They have left the field of the class struggle, 
foresworn revolution, and degenerated into weaklings 
and ineffectuals who dare openly neither to advocate 
"State socialism" nor to oppose it. In the last chapter 
of his "Karl Marx" Labriola traces some of the tenden- 
cies to State socialism. He observes that the State is 
gradually taking over all the great public utilities and 
that cities and towns are increasingly municipalizing pub- 
lic services. In the more liberal and democratic coun- 
tries "the tendency to State property was greeted," he 
says, "as the beginning of the socialist transformation. 
To-day, in France, in Italy, and in Austria socialism 


is being confounded with Statism (I'etatisme) . . . The 
socialist party, almost ever3rwhere, has become the party 
of State capitalism." It is "no more the representa- 
tive of a movement which ranges itself against existing 
institutions, but rather of an evolution which is taking 
place now in the midst of present-day society, and by 
means of the State itself. The socialist party, by the 
very force of circumstances, is becoming a conservative 
party which is declaring for a transformation, the agent 
of which is no longer the proletariat itself, but the new 
economic organism which is the State. . . . Even the de- 
sire of the workingmen themselves to pass into the service 
of the State is eager and spontaneous. We have a proof 
of it in Italy with the railway workers, who, however, 
represent one of the best-informed and most advanced 
sections of the working class. 

". . . Where the Marxian tradition has no stability, 
as in Italy, the socialist party refused to admit that the 
State was an exclusively capitalist organism and that it 
was necessary to challenge its action. And with this pro- 
State attitude of the socialist party all its ideas have un- 
consciously changed. The principles of State enterprise 
(order, discipline, hierarchy, subordination, maximum 
productivity, etc.) are the same as those of private en- 
terprise. Wherever the socialist party openly takes its 
stand on the side of the State — contrary even to its in- 
tentions — it acquires an entirely capitalist viewpoint. Its 
embarrassed attitude in regard to the insubordination of 
the workers in private manufacture becomes each day 
more evident, and, if it were not afraid of losing its 
electoral support, it would oppose still more the spirit 
of revolt among the workers. It is thus that the socialist 
party — the conservative party of the future transformed 
State — is becoming the conservative party of the present 


social organization. But even where, as in Germany, the 
Marxian tradition still assumes the form of a creed to all 
outward appearance, the party is very far from keeping 
within the limits of pure Marxian theory. Its anti-State 
attitude is not one of inclination. It is imposed by the 
State itself, . . . the adversary, through its military and 
feudal vanity, of every concession to working-class de- 
mocracy." (19) 

All this sounds most familiar, and I cannot resist quot- 
ing here our old friend Bakounin in order to show how 
much this criticism resembles that of the anarchists. If 
we turn to "Statism and Anarchy" we find that Bakounin 
concluded this work with the following words : "Upon 
the Pangermanic banner" (i. e., also upon the banner of 
German social democracy, and, consequently, upon the 
socialist banner of the whole civilized world) "is in- 
scribed : The conservation and strengthening of the State 
at all costs; on the socialist-revolutionary banner" (read 
Bakouninist banner) "is inscribed in characters of blood, 
in letters of fire : the abolition of all States, the destruc- 
tion of bourgeois civilization ; free organization from the 
bottom to the top, by the help of free associations; the 
organization of the working populace (jtc.') freed from 
all the trammels, the organization of the whole of emanci- 
pated humanity, the creation of a new human world." * 
Thus frantically Bakounin exposed the antagonism be- 
tween his philosophy and that of the Marxists. It would 
seem, therefore, that if Labriola knew his Marx, he 
would hardly undertake at this late date to save socialism 
from a tendency that Marx himself gave it. The State, 
it appears, is the same bugaboo to the syndicalists that 
it is to the anarchists. It is almost something personal, 
a kind of monster that, in all ages and times, must be 

*The comments are by Plechanoff. C20) 


oppressive. It cannot evolve or change its being. It can- 
not serve the working class as it has previously served 
feudalism, or as it now serves capitalism. It is an un- 
changeable thing, that, regardless of economic and social 
conditions, must remain eternally the enemy of the peo- 

Evidently, the syndicalist identifies the revolutionist 
with the anti-Statist — apparently forgetting that hatred 
of the State is often as strong among the bourgeoisie as 
among the workers. The determination to limit the 
power of the Government was not only a powerful factor 
in the French and American Revolutions, but since then 
the slaveholders of the Southern States in America, the 
factory owners of all countries, and the trusts have ex- 
hausted every means, fair and foul, to limit and to 
weaken the power of the State. What diflference is there 
between the theory of laissez-faire and the antagonism of 
the anarchists and the syndicalists to every activity of the 
State ? However, it is noteworthy that antagonism to the 
State disappears on the part of any group or class as 
soon as it becomes an agency for advancing their ma- 
terial well-being; they not only then forsake their anti- 
Statism, they even become the most ardent defenders 
of the State. Evidently, then, it is not the State that 
has to be overcome, but the interests that control the 

It must be admitted that Labriola sketches accurately 
enough the prevailing tendency toward State ownership, 
but he misunderstands or wilfully misinterprets, as Ba- 
kounin did before him, the attitude of the avowed social- 
ist parties toward such evolution. When he declares that 
they confuse their socialism with Statism, he might 
equally well argue that socialists confuse tiieir socialism 
with monopoly or with the aggregation of capital in the 


hands of the few. Because socialists recognize the in- 
evitable evolution toward monopoly is no reason for 
believing that they advocate monopoly. Nowhere have 
the socialists ever advised the destruction of trusts, nor 
have they anywhere opposed the taking over of great in- 
dustries by the State. They realize that, as- monopoly 
is an inevitable outcome of capitalism, so State capitalism, 
more or less extended, is an inevitable result of monopoly. 
That the workers remain wage earners and are exploited 
in the same manner as before has been pointed out again 
and again by all the chief socialists. However, if socialists 
prefer monopoly to the chaos of competition and to the 
reactionary tendencies of small property, and if they 
lend themselves, as they do everywhere, to the promo- 
tion of the State ownership of monopoly, it is not'be- 
. cause they confuse monopoly, whether private or public, 
with socialism. It is of little consequence whether the 
workers are exploited by the trusts or by the Government. 
As long as capitalism exists they will be exploited by the 
one or the other. If they themselves prefer to be ex- 
ploited by the Government, as Labriola admits, and if 
that exploitation is less ruinous to the body and mind 
of the worker, the socialist who opposed State capitalism 
in favor of private capitalism would be nothing less than 
a reactionary. 

Without, however, leaving the argument here, it must 
be said that there are various reasons why the socialist 
prefers State capitalism to private capitalism. It has 
certain advantages for the general public. It confers 
certain benefits upon the toilers, chief of all perhaps thp 
regularity of work. And, abdve and beyond this. State 
capitalism is actually expropriating private capitalists. 
The more property the State owns, the fewer will be the 
number of capitalists to be dealt with, and the easier it 


will be eventually to introduce socialism. Indeed, to 
proceed from State capitalism to socialism is little more 
than the grasp of public powers by the working class, fol- 
lowed by the administrative measures of industrial de- 
mocracy. All this, of course, has been said before by 
Engels, part of whose argument I have already quoted. 
Unfortunately, no syndicalist seems to follow this reason- 
ing or excuse what he considers the terrible crime of ex- 
tending the domain of the State. Not infrequently his 
revolutionary philosophy begins with the abolition of the 
State, and often it ends there. Marx, Engels, and Ecca- 
rius, as we know, ridiculed Bakounin's terror of the 
State ; and how many times since have the socialists been 
compelled to deal with this bugaboo ! It rises up in every 
country from time to time. The anarchist, the anarchist- 
communist, the Lokalisten, the anarcho-socialist, the 
young socialist, and the syndicalist have all in their time 
solemnly come to warn the working class of this insidious 
enemy. But the workers refuse to be frightened, and in 
every country, including even Russia, Italy, and France, 
they have less fear of State ownership of industry than 
they have of that crushing exploitation which they know 

Even in Germany, where Labriola considers the so- 
cialists to be more or less free from the taint of State 
capitalism, they have from the very beginning voted 
for State ownership. As early as 1870 the German social- 
ists, upon a resolution presented by Bebel, adopted by a 
large majority the proposition that the State should re- 
tain in its hands the State lands. Church lands, communal 
lands, the mines, and the railroads.* When adopting the 

* It should, however, be pointed out that the German social 
democrats voted at first against the State ownership of railroads, 
because it was considered a military measure. 


new party program at Erfurt in 1891, the Congress 
struck out the section directed against State socialism 
and adopted a number of propositions leading to that 
end. Again, at Breslau in 1895, the Germans adopted 
several State-socialist measures. "At this time," says 
Paul Kampffmeyer, "a proposition of the agrarian com- 
mission on the party program, which had a decided State- 
socialist stamp, was discussed. It contained, among 
other things, the retaining and the increase of the public 
land domain; the management of the State and com- 
munity lands on their own account; the giving of State 
credit to cooperative societies ; the socialization of mort- 
gages, debts, and loans on land ; the socialization of chat- 
tel and real estate insurance, etc. Bebel agreed to all 
these State-socialist propositions. He recalled the fact 
that the nationalizing of the railroads had been accom- 
plished with the agreement of the social-democracy." 
(21) "That which applies to the railways applies also 
to the forestry," said Bebel. "Have we any objections 
to the enlarging of the State forests and thereby the 
employment of workers and officials? The same thing 
applies to the mines, the salt industry, road-making, the 
post office, and the telegraphs. In all of these industries 
we have hundreds of thousands of dependent people, 
and yet we do not want to advocate their abolition but 
rather their extension. In this direction we must break 
with all our prejudices. We ought only to oppose State 
industry where it is antagonistic to culture and where 
it restricts development, as, for instance, is the case in 
military matters. Indeed, we must even compel the State 
constantly to take over means of culture, because by that 
means we will finally put the present State out of joint. 
And, lastly, even the strongest State power fails in that 
degree in which the State drives its own officers and 


workers into opposition to itself, as has occurred in 
the case of the postal service. The attitude which would 
refuse to strengthen the power of the State, because this 
would entrust to it the solution of the problems of cul- 
ture, smacks of the Manchester school. We must strip 
off these Manchesterian egg-shells." (22) 

Wilhelm Liebknecht also dealt with those who op- 
posed the strengthening of the class State. "We are 
concerned," he said, ". . . first of all about the strength- 
ening of the State power. In all similar cases we have 
decided in favor of practical activity. We allowed funds 
for the Northeast Sea Canal; we voted for the labor 
legislation, although the proposed laws did decidedly ex- 
tend the State power. We are in favor of the State 
railways, although we have thereby brought about . . . 
the dependence of numerous livings upon the State." 
(23) As early, indeed, as 1881 Liebknecht saw that the 
present State was preparing the way for socialism. 
Speaking of the compulspry insurance laws proposed by 
Bismarck, he refers to such legislation as embodying 
"in a decisive manner the principle of State regulation of 
production as opposed to the laissez-faire system of the 
Manchester school. The right of the State to regulate 
production supposes the duty of the State to. interest it- 
self in labor, and State control of the labor of society 
leads directly to State organization of the labor of so- 
ciety." (24) Further even than this goes Karl Kautsky, 
who has been called the "acutest observer and thinker of 
modern socialism." "Among the social organizations in 
existence to-day," he says, "there is but one that possesses 
the requisite dimensions, and may be used as the 'frame- 
work for the establishment and development of the 
socialist commonwealth, and that is the modern 
State." (25) 


Without going needlessly far into this subject, it 
seems safe to conclude that the State is no more terri- 
fying to the modern socialist than it was to Marx and 
Engels. There is not a socialist party in any country 
that has not used its power to force the State to under- 
take collective enterprise. Indeed, all the immediate 
programs of the various socialist parties advocate the 
strengthening of the economic power of the State. They 
are adding more and more to its functions; they are 
broadening its scope; and they are, without question, 
vastly increasing its power. But, at the same time, they 
are democratizing the State. By direct legislation, by a 
variety of political reforms, and by the power of the 
great socialist parties themselves, they are really wrest- 
ing the control of the State from the hands of special 
privilege. Furthermore — and this is something neither 
the anarchists nor the syndicalists will see — State social- 
ism is in itself undermining and slowly destroying the 
class character of the State. According to the view of 
Marx, the State is to-day "but a committee for managing 
the common affairs of the whole capitalist class." (26) 
And it is this because the economic power of the capital- 
ist class is supreme. But by the growth of State social- 
ism the economic power of the private capitalists is 
steadily weakened. The railroads, the mines, the forests, 
and other great monopolies are taken out of their hands, 
and, to the extent that this happens, their control over 
the State itself disappears. Their only power to control 
the State is their economic power, and, if that were en- 
tirely to disappear, the class character of the State would 
disappear also. "The State is not abolished. It dies 
out" ; to repeat Engels' notable words. "As soon as there 
is no longer any social class to be held in subjection, 
. . . nothing more remains to be repressed, and a special 


repressive force, a State, is no longer necessary." (27) 
The syndicalists are, of course, quite right when they 
say that State socialism is an attempt to allay popular 
discontent, but they are quite wrong when they accept 
this as proof that it must inevitably sidetrack socialism. 
They overlook the fact that it is always a concession 
granted grudgingly to the growing power of democracy. 
It is a point yielded in order to prevent if possible the 
necessity of making further concessions. Yet history 
shows that each concession necessitates another, and that 
State socialism is growing with great rapidity in all 
countries where the workers have developed powerful 
political organizations. Even now both friends and op- 
ponents see in the growth of State socialism the gradual 
formation of that transitional stage that leads from 
capitalism to socialism. The syndicalist and anarchist 
alone fail to see here any drift toward socialism; they 
see only a growing tyranny creating a class of favored 
civil servants, who are divorced from the actual working 
class. At the same time, they point out that the condition 
of the toilers for the State has not improved, and that 
they are exploited as mercilessly by the State as they 
were formerly exploited by the capitalist. To dispute this 
would be time ill spent. If it be indeed true, it defeats 
the argument of the syndicalist. If the State in its capi- 
talism outrageously exploits its servants, tries to pre- 
vent them from organizing, and penalizes them for strik- 
ing, it will only add to the intensity of the working-class 
revolt. It will aid more and more toward creating a 
common understanding between the workers for the State 
and the workers for the private capitalist. In any case, 
it will accelerate the tendency toward the democratiza- 
tion of the State and, therefore, toward socialism. 
As an alternative to this actual evolution toward social- 


ism, the syndicalists propose to force society to put the 
means of production into the hands of the trade unions. 
It is perhaps worth pointing out that Owen, Proudhon, 
Blanc, Lassalle, and Bakounin all advocated what may 
be called "group socialism." (28) This conception of 
future society contemplates the ownership of the mines 
by the miners, of the railroads by the railway workers, 
of the land by the peasants. All the workers in the vari- 
ous industries are to be organized into unions and then 
brought together in a federation. Several objections are 
made to this outline of a new society. In the first place, 
it is artificial. Except for an occasional cooperative un- 
dertaking, there is not, nor has there ever been, any 
tendency toward trade-union ownership of industry. In 
addition, it is an idea that is to-day an anachronism. It 
is conceivable that small federated groups might control 
and conduct countless little industries, but it is not con- 
ceivable that groups of "self-governing," "autonomous," 
and "independent" workmen could, or would, be allowed 
by a highly industrialized society to direct and manage 
such vast enterprises as the trusts have built up. If 
each group is to run industry as it pleases, the Standard 
Oil workers or the steel workers might menace society 
in the future as the owners of those monopolies menace 
it in the present. There is no indication in the litera- 
ture of the syndicalists, and certainly no promise in a 
system of completely autonomous groups of producers, 
of any solution of the vast problems of modern trustified 
industry. It may be that such ideas corresponded to the 
state of things represented in early capitalism. But the 
socialist ideas of the present are the product of a more 
advanced state of capitalism than Owen, Proudhon, Las- 
salle, and Bakounin knew, or than the syndicalists of 
France, Italy, and Spain have yet been forced seriously 


to deal with. Indeed, it was necessary for Marx to 
forecast half a century of capitalist development in order 
to clarify the program of socialism and to emphasize the 
necessity for that program. 

It is a noteworthy and rather startling fact that Sidney 
and Beatrice Webb had pointed out the economic falla- 
cies of syndicalism before the French Confederation of 
Labor was founded or Sorel, Berth, and Lagardelle had 
written a line on the subject. In their "History of Trade 
Unionism" they tell most interestingly the story of 
Owen's early trade-union socialism. The book was pub- 
lished in 1894, two or three years before the theories 
of the French school were born. Nevertheless, their 
critique of Owenism expresses as succinctly and forcibly 
as anything yet written the attitude of the socialists to- 
ward the economics of modern syndicalism. "Of all 
Owen's attempts to reduce his socialism to practice," 
write the Webbs, "this was certainly the very worst. 
For his short-lived communities there was at least this 
excuse: that within their own area they were to be per- 
fectly homogeneous little socialist States. There were 
to be no conflicting sections, and profit-making and com- 
petition were to be effectually eliminated. But in 'the 
Trades Union,' as he conceived it, the mere combination 
of all the workmen in a trade as cooperative producers 
no more abolished commercial competition than a com- 
bination of all the employers in it as a joint stock com- 
pany. In effect, his Grand Lodges would have been 
simply the head offices of huge joint stock companies 
owning the entire means of production in their in- 
dustry, and subject to no control by the community as a 
whole. They would, therefore, have been in a position 
at any moment to close their ranks and admit fresh gen- 
erations of workers only as employees at competitive 


wages instead of as shareholders, thus creating at one 
stroke a new capitalist class and a new proletariat. (29) 
... In short, the socialism of Owen led him to propose 
a practical scheme which was not even socialistic, and 
which, if it could possibly have been carried out, would 
have simply arbitrarily redistributed the capital of the 
country without altering or superseding the capitalist 
system in the least." (30) 

Although this "group socialism" would certainly neces- 
sitate a Parliament in order to harmonize the conflicting 
interests of the various productive associations, there is 
nothing, it appears, that the syndicalist so much abhors. 
He is never quite done with picturing the burlesque of 
parliamentarism. While, no doubt, this is a necessary 
corollary to his antagonism to the State, it is aggravated 
by the fact that one of the chief ends of a political party 
is to put its representatives into Parliament. The syndi- 
calist, in ridiculing all parliamentary activity, is at the 
same time, therefore, endeavoring to prove the folly of 
political action. That you cannot bring into the world 
a new social order by merely passing laws is something 
the syndicalist never wearies of pointing out. Parlia- 
mentarism, he likes to repeat, is a new superstition that 
is weakening the activity and paralyzing the mentality of 
the working class. "The superstitious belief in parlia- 
mentary action," Leone says, ". . . ascribes to acts of 
Parliament the magic power of bringing about new social 
forces." (31) Sorel refers to the same thing as the 
"belief in the magic influence of departmental authority," 

(32) while Labriola divines that "parties may elect mem- 
bers of Parliament, but they cannot set one machine go- 
ing, nor can they organize one business undertaking." 

(33) All this reminds one of what Marx himself said in 
the early fifties. He speaks in "Revolution and Counter- 


Revolution," a collection of some articles that were orig- 
inally written for the New York Tribune, of "parlia- 
mentary cretinism, a disorder which penetrates its un- 
fortunate victims with the solemn conviction that the 
whole world, its history and future, are governed and 
determined by a majority of votes in that particular 
representative body which has the honor to count them 
among its members, and that all and everything going on 
outside the walls of their house — wars, revolutions, rail- 
way constructing, colonizing of whole new continents, 
California gold discoveries. Central American canals," 
Russian armies, and whatever else may have some little 
claim to influence upon the destinies of mankind — is 
nothing compared with the incommensurable events hing- 
ing upon the important question, whatever it may be, 
just at that moment occupying the attention of their 
honorable house." (34) 

No one can read this statement of Marx's without 
realizing its essential truthfulness. But it should not be 
forgotten that Marx himself believed, and every prom- 
inent socialist believes, that the control of the parliaments 
of the world is essential to any movement that seeks to 
transform the world. The powerlessness of parliaments 
may be easily exaggerated. To say that they are in- 
capable of constructive work is to deny innumerable facts 
of history. Laws have both set up and destroyed indus- 
tries. The action of parliaments has established gigantic 
industries. The schools, the roads, the Panama Canal, 
and a thousand other great operations known to us to-day 
have been set going by parhaments. Tariff laws make 
and destroy industries. Prohibition laws have annihilated 
industries, while legality, which is the peculiar product 
of parliaments, has everything to do with the ownership 
of property, of industry, and of the management of capi- 


tal. For one who is attacking a legal status, who is en- 
deavoring to alter political, juridical, as well as industrial 
and social relations, the conquering of parliaments is 
vitally necessary. The socialist recognizes that the par- 
liaments of to-day represent class interests, that, indeed, 
they are dominated by class interests, and, as such, that 
they do not seek to change but to conserve what now 
exists. As a result, there is a parliamentary cretinism, 
because, in a sense, the dominant elements in Parliament 
are only managing the affairs of powerful influences 
outside of Parliament. They are not the guiding hand, 
but the servile hand, of capitalism. 

For the above reason, chiefly, the syndicalists are on 
safe ground when they declare that parliaments are cor- 
rupt. Corruption is a product of the struggle of the 
classes. To obtain special privilege, class laws, and im- 
munity from punishment, the "big interests" bribe and 
corrupt parliaments. However, corruption does not stop 
there. The trade unions themselves suffer. Labor lead- 
ers are bought just as labor representatives are bought. 
Insurrection itself is often controlled and rendered abor- 
tive by corruption. Numberless violent uprisings have 
been betrayed by those who fomented them. The words 
of Fruneau at Basel in 1869 are memorable. "Bakounin 
has declared," he said, "that it is necessary to await the 
Revolution. Ah, well, the Revolution! Away with it! 
Not that I fear the barricades, but, when one is a 
Frenchman and has seen the blood of the bravest of 
the French running in the streets in order to elevate 
to power the ambitious who, a few months later, sent us 
to Cayenne, one suspects the same snares, because the 
Revolution, in view of the ignorance of the proletarians, 
would take place only at the profit of our adversaries." 
(35) There is no way to escape the corrupting power 


of capitalism. It has its representatives in every move- 
ment that promises to be hostile. It has its spies in the 
labor unions, its agents provocateurs in insurrections; 
and its money can always find hands to accept it. One 
does not escape corruption by abandoning Parliament. 
And Bordat, the anarchist, was the slave of a mania 
when he declared: "To send workingmen to a parlia- 
ment is to act like a mother who would take her daughter 
to a brothel." (36) Parliaments are perhaps more cor- 
rupt than trade unions, but that is simply because they 
have greater power. To no small degree bribery and 
campaign funds are the tribute that capitalism pays to 
the power of the State. 

The consistent opposition of the syndicalists to the 
State is leading them desperately far, and we see them 
developing, as the anarchists did before them, a con- 
tempt even for democracy. The literature of syndicalism 
teems with attacks on democracy. "Syndicalism and 
Democracy," says Emile Pouget, "are the two opposite 
poles, which exclude and neutralize each other. . . . 
Democracy is a social superfluity, a parasitic and exter- 
nal excrescence, while syndicalism is the logical mani- 
festation of a growth of life, it is a rational cohesion 
of human beings, and that is why, instead of restraining 
their individuality, it prolongs and develops it." (37) 
Democracy is, in the view of Sorel, the regime par ex- 
cellence, in which men are governed "by the magical 
power of high-sounding words rather than by ideas ; by 
formulas rather than by reasons ; by dogmas, the origin 
of which nobody cares to find out, rather than by doc- 
trines based on observation." (38) Lagardelle declares 
that syndicalism is post-democratic. "Democracy corre- 
sponds to a definite historical movement," he says, "which 
has come to an end. Syndicalism is an anti-democratic 


movement." (39) These are but three out of a number 
of criticisms of democracy that might be quoted. Al- 
though natural enough as a consequence of syndicalist 
antagonism to the State, these ideas are nevertheless fatal 
when applied to the actual conduct of a working-class 
movement. It means that the minority believes that it 
can drive the majority. We remember that Guerard sug- 
gested, in his advocacy of the general strike, that, if the 
railroad workers struck, many other trades "would be 
compelled to quit work." "A daring revolutionary minor- 
ity conscious of its aim can carry away with it the 
majority." (40) Pouget confesses : "The syndicalist has 
a contempt for the vulgar idea of democracy — the inert, 
unconscious mass is not to be taken into account when 
the minority wishes to act so as to benefit it . . ." 
(41) He refers in another place to the majority, who 
"may be considered as human zeros. Thus appears the 
enormous difference in method," concludes Pouget, 
"which distinguishes syndicalism and democracy: the 
latter, by the mechanism of universal suffrage, gives 
direction to the unconscious . . . and stifles the 
minorities who bear within them the hopes of the fu- 
ture." (42) 

This is anarchism all over again, from Proudhon to 
Goldman. (43) But, while the Bakouninists were forced, 
as a result of these views, to abandon organized effort, 
the newest anarchists have attempted to incorporate these 
ideas into the very constitution of the French Confedera- 
tion of Labor. And at present they are, in fact, a little 
clique that rides on the backs of the organized workers, 
and the majority cannot throw them off so long as a score 
of members have the same voting power in the Confed- 
eration as that of a trade union with ten thousand mem- 
bers. All this must, of course, have very serious conse- 


quences. Opposition to majority rule has always been 
a cardinal principle of the anarchists. It is also a funda- 
mental principle of every American political machine. 
To defeat democracy is obviously the chief purpose of a 
Tammany Hall. But, when this idea is actually advo- 
cated as an ideal of working-class organization, when it 
is made to stand as a policy and practice of a trade 
union, it can only result in suspicion, disruption, and, 
eventually, in complete ruin. It appears that the militant 
syndicalist, like the anarchist, realizes that he cannot ex- 
pect the aid of the people. He turns, then, to the mi- 
nority, the fighting inner circle, as the sole hope. 

It is inevitable, therefore, that syndicalism and social- 
ism should stand at opposite poles. They are exactly as 
far apart as anarchism and socialism.. And, if we turn 
to the question of methods, we find an antagonism almost 
equally great. How are the workers to obtain possession 
of industry? On this point, as well as upon their con- 
ception of socialism, the syndicalists are not advanced 
beyond Owenism. "One question, and that the most 
immediately important of all," say the Webbs, speaking 
of Owen's projects, "was never seriously faced: How 
was the transfer of the industries from the capitalists to 
the unions to be effected in the teeth of a hostile and 
well-armed government? The answer must have been 
that the overwhelming numbers of 'the trades union' 
would render conflict impossible. At all events, Owen, 
like the early Christians, habitually spoke as if the day 
of judgment of the existing order of society was at hand. 
The next six months, in his view, were always going to 
see the 'new moral world' really established. The change 
from the capitalist system to a complete organization of 
industry under voluntary a,ssociations of producers was 
to 'come suddenly upon society like a thief in the night.' 


. . . It is impossible not to regret that the first intro- 
ckiction of the EngHsh Trade Unionist to Sociahsm 
should have been effected by a foredoomed scheme which 
violated every economic principle of collectivism, and 
left the indispensable political preliminaries to pure 
chance." (44) Little need be added to what the Webbs 
have said on the Utopian features of syndicalism or even 
wpon the haphazard method adopted to achieve them. 
"No politics in the unions" follows logically enough 
from an avowed antagonism to the State. If one starts 
with the assumption that nothing can be done through 
the State — ^as Owen, Bakounin, and the syndicalists have 
done — one is, of course, led irretrievably to oppose parlia- 
mentary and other political methods of action. 

When the syndicalists throw over democracy and fore- 
swear political action, they are fatally driven to the 
point where they must abandon the working class. In 
the meantime, they are sadly misleading it. It is when 
we touch this phase of the syndicalist movement that 
we begin to discover real bitterness. Here direct action 
stands in opposition to political action. The workers 
must choose the one method or the other. The old 
clash appears again in all its tempestuous hate. Jules 
Guesde was early one of the adherents of Bakounin, but 
in all his later life he has been pitiless in his warfare 
on the anarchists. As soon, therefore, as the direct- 
actionists began again to exercise an influence, Guesde 
entered the field of battle. I happened to be at Limoges 
in 1906 to hear Guesde speak these memorable words 
at the French Socialist Congress : "Political action is 
necessarily revolutionary. It does not address itself to 
the employer, but to the State, while industrial action 
addresses itself to the individual employer or to asso- 
ciations of employers. Industrial action does not attack 


the employer as an institution, because the employer is 
the effect, the result of capitalist property. As soon as 
capitalist property will have disappeared, the employer 
will disappear, and not before. It is in the socialist party 
— ^because it is a political party — ^that one fights against 
the employer class, and that is why the socialist party is 
truly an economic party, tending to transform social and 
political economy. At the present moment words have 
their importance. And I should like to urge the comrades 
strongly never to allow it to be believed that trade- 
union action is economic action. No ; this latter action is 
taken only by the political organization of the working 
class. It is the party of the working class which leads 
it — ^that is to say, the socialist party — because property is 
a social institution which cannot be transformed except 
by the exploited class making use of political power for 
this purpose. . . . 

"I realize," he continued, "that the direct-actionists at- 
tempt to identify political action with parliamentary ac- 
tion. No ; electoral action as well as parliamentary action 
may be forms; pieces of political action. They are not 
political action as a whole, which is the effort to seize 
public powers — the Government. Political action is the 
people of Paris taking possession of the Hotel de Ville in 
1 87 1. It is the Parisian workers marching upon the 
National Assembly in 1848. ... To those who go 
about claiming that political action, as extolled by the 
party, reduces itself to the production of public officials, 
you will oppose a flat denial. Political action is, more- 
over, not the production of laws. It is the grasping by 
the working class of the manufactory of laws; it is 
the political expropriation of the employer class, which 
alone permits its economic expropriation. ... I 
wish that someone would explain to me how the break- 


ing of street lights, the disemboweling of soldiers, the 
burning of factories, can constitute a means of trans- 
forming the ownership of property. . . . Supposing 
that the strikers were masters of the streets and should 
seize the factories, would not the factories still remain 
private property? Instead of being the property of a 
few employers or stockholders, they would become the 
property of the 500 or the 5,000 workingmen who had 
taken them, and that is all. The owners of the property 
will have changed ; the system of ownership will have 
remained the same. And ought we not to consider it 
necessary to say that to the workers over and over 
again? Ought we to allow them to take a path that 
leads nowhere? . . . No; the socialists could not, 
without crime, lend themselves to such trickery. It is 
our imperative duty to bring back the workers to reality, 
to remind them always that one can only be revolution- 
ary if one attacks the government and the State." (45) 
"Trade-union action moves within the circle of capital- 
ism without breaking through it, and that is necessarily 
reformist, in the good sense of the word. In order to 
ameliorate the conditions of the victims of capitalist 
society, it does not touch the system. All the revolu- 
tionary wrangling can avail nothing against this fact. 
Even when a strike is triumphant, the day after the 
strike the wage earners remain wage earners and capi- 
talist exploitation continues. It is a necessity, a fatal- 
ity, which trade- union action suffers." (46) 

Any comment of mine would, I think, only serve to 
mar this masterly logic of Guesde's. There is nothing 
perhaps in socialist literature which so ably sustains the 
traditional position of the socialist movement. The bat- 
tles in France over this question have been bitterly 
fought for over half a century. The most brilliant of 


minds have been engaged in the struggle. Proudhon, 
Bakounin, Briand, Sorel, Lagardelle, Berth, Herve, are 
men of undoubted ability. Opposed to them we find the 
Marxists, led in these latter years by Guesde and Jaures. 
And while direct action has always been vigorously 
supported in France both by the intellectuals and by the 
masses, it is the policy of Guesde and Jaures which has 
made headway. At the time when the general strike was 
looked upon as a revolutionary panacea, and the French 
working class seemed on the point of risking every- 
thing in one throw of the dice, Jaures uttered a solemn 
warning: "Toward this abyss . . . the proletariat 
is feeling itself more and more drawn, at the risk not 
only of tuining itself should it fall over, but of drag- 
ging down 'with it for years to come either the wealth 
or the security of the national life." (47) "If the pro- 
letarians take possession of the mine and the factory, it 
will be a perfectly fictitious ownership. They will be 
embracing a corpse, for the mines and factories will 
be no better than dead bodies while economic circula- 
tion is suspended and production is stopped. So long as 
a class does not own and govern the whole social ma- 
chine, it can seize a few factories and yards, if it wants 
to, but it really possesses nothing. To hold in one's hand 
a few pebbles of a deserted road is not to be master 
of transportation." (48) "The working class would be 
the dupe of a fatal illusion and a sort of unhealthy ob- 
session if it mistook what can be only the tactics of 
despair for a method of revolution." (49) 

The struggle, therefore, between the sjmdicalists and 
the socialists is, as we see, the same clash over methods 
that occurred in the seventies and ieighties between the 
anarchists and the socialists. In abandoning democ- 
racy, in denying the efficacy of political action, and in 


resorting to methods which can only end in self-destruc- 
tion, the syndicalist becomes the logical descendant of 
the anarchist. He is at this moment undergoing an 
evolution which appears to be leading him into the same 
cul-de-sac that thwarted his forefather. His path is 
blocked by the futility of his own weapons. He is 
fatally driven, as Plechanoff said, either to serve the 
bourgeois politicians or to resort to the tactics of Rava- 
chol, Henry, Vaillant, and Most. The latter is the 
more likely, since the masses refuse to be drawn into 
the general strike as they formerly declined to partici- 
pate in artificial uprisings.* The daring conscious mi- 
nority more and more despair, and they turn to the 
only other weapon in their arsenal, that of sabotage. 
There is a kind of fatality which overtakes the revolu- 
tionist who insists upon an immediate, universal, and 
violent revolution. He must first despair of the major- 
ity. He then loses confidence even in the enlightened 
minority. And, in the end, like the Bakouninist, he is 
driven to individual acts of despair. What will doubt- 
less happen at no distant date in France and Italy will 
be a repetition of the congress at The Hague. When 
the trade-union movement actually develops into a pow- 
erful organization, it will be forced to throw off this 
incubus of the new anarchism. It is already thought that 
a majority of the French trade ■ unionists oppose the 
anarchist tendencies of the clique in control, and cer- 
tainly a number of the largest and most influential 

* The committee on the general strike of the French Confed- 
eration said despairingly in igoo: "The idea of the general 
strike is sufficiently understood to-day. In repeatedly putting 
off the date of its coming, we risk discrediting it forever by 
enervating the revolutionary energies." Quoted by Levine, "The 
Labor Movement in France," p. 102. 


unions frankly class themselves as reformist syndical- 
ists, in order to distinguish themselves from the revolu- 
tionary syndicalists. What will come of this division 
time only can tell. 

In any case, it is becoming clear even to the French 
unionists that direct action is not and cannot be, as 
Guesde has pointed out, revolutionary action. It can- 
not transform our social system. It is destined to fail- 
ure just as insurrection as a policy was destined to 
failure. Rittinghausen said at Basel in 1869: "Revolu- 
tion, as a matter of fact, accomplishes nothing. If you 
are not able to formulate, after the revolution, by legisla- 
tion, your legitimate demands, the revolution will perish 
miserably." (50) This was true in 1848, in 1871, and 
even in the great French Revolution itself. Nothing 
would have seemed easier at the time of the French 
Revolution than for the peasants to have directly pos- 
sessed themselves of the land. They were using it. Their 
houses were planted in the midst of it. Their land- 
lords in many cases had fled. Yet Kropotkin, in his 
story of "The Great French Revolution," relates that 
the redistribution of land awaited the action of Parlia- 
ment. To be sure, some of the peasants had taken the 
land, but they were not at all sure that it might not 
again be taken from them by some superior force. Their 
rights were not defined, and there was such chaos in 
the entire situation that, in the end, the whole question 
had to be left to Parliament. It was only after the 
action of the Convention, June 11, 1793, that the rights 
of ownership were defined. It was only then, as Kro- 
potkin says, that "everyone had a right to the land. 
It was a complete revolution." (51) That the greatest 
of living anarchists should be forced to pay this tribute 
to the action of Parliament is in itself an assurance. 


For masses in the time of revolution to grab whatever" 
they desire is, after all, to constitute what Jaures calls 
a fictitious ownership. Some legality is needed to estab- 
lish posesssion and a sense of security, and, up to the 
present, only the political institutions of society have 
been able to do that. For this precise reason every 
social struggle and class struggle of the past has been 
a political struggle.. 

There remains but one other fundamental question, 
which must be briefly examined. The syndicalists do not 
go back to Owen as the founder of their philosophy. 
They constantly reiterate the claim that they alone to- 
day are Marxists and that it is given to them to keep 
"pure and undefiled" the theories of that giant mind. 
They base their claim on the ground of Marx's economic 
interpretation of history and especia,lly upon his oft- 
repeated doctrine that upon the economic structure of 
society rises the juridical and political superstructure. 
They maintain that the political institutions are merely 
the reflex of economic conditions. Alter the economic 
basis of society, and the political structure must adjust 
itself to the new conditions. As a result of this, truly 
Marxian reasoning, they assert that the revolutionary 
movement must pursue solely economic aims and disre- 
gard totally the existing and, to their minds, superfluous 
political relations. They accuse the socialists of a 
contradiction. Claiming to be Marxists and basing their 
program upon the economic interpretation of history, the 
socialists waste their energies in trying to modify the 
results instead of obliterating the causes. Political in- 
stitutions are parasitical. Why, therefore, ignore eco- 
nomic foundations and waste effort remodeling the 
parasitical superstructure? There is a contradiction 
here, but not on the part of the socialists. Proudhon was 


entirely consistent when he asked: "Can we not ad- 
minister our goods, keep our accounts, arrange our dif- 
ferences, look after our common interests?" (52) And, 
moreover, he was consistent when he declared : "I want 
you to make the very institutions which I charge you 
to abolish, ... so that the new society shall ap- 
pear as the spontaneous, natural, and necessary develop- 
ment of the old." (53) If that were once done the 
dissolution of government would follow, as he says, in a 
way about which one can at present make only guesses. 
But Proudhon urged his followers to establish coopera- 
tive banks, cooperative industries, and a variety of vol- 
untary industrial enterprises, in order eventually to pos- 
sess themselves of the means of production. If the 
working class, through its own cooperative efforts, could 
once acquire the ownership of industry, if they could 
thus expropriate the present owners and gradually come 
into the ownership, of all natural resources and all means 
of production — in a word, of all social capital — they 
would not need to bother themselves with the State. If, 
in possessing themselves thus of all economic power, they 
were .also to neglect the State, its machinery would, of 
course, tumble into uselessness and eventually disap- 
pear. As the great capitalists to-day make laws through 
the stock exchange, through their chambers of com- 
merce, through their pools and combinations, so the 
working class could do likewise if they were in posses- 
sion of industry. But the working class to-day has no 
real economic power. It has no participation in the own- 
ership of industry. It is claimed that it might withdraw 
its labor power and in this manner break down the en- 
tire economic system. It is urged that labor alone is abso- 
lutely necessary to production and that if, in a great 
general strike, it should cease production, the whole of 


society would be forced to capitulate. And in theory 
this seems unassailable, but actually it has no force 
whatever. In the first place, this economic power does 
not exist unless the workers are organized and are prac- 
tically unanimous in their action. Furthermore, the 
economic position of the workers is one of utter helpless- 
ness at the time of a universal strike, in that they can- 
not feed themselves. As they are the nearest of all 
classes to starvation, they will be the first to suffer by a 
stoppage of work. There is still another vital weakness 
in this so-called economic theory. The battles that re- 
sult from a general strike will not be on the industrial 
field. They will be battles between the armed agents of 
the State and unarmed masses of hungry men. What- 
ever economic power the workers are said to possess 
would, in that case, avail them little, for the results 
of their struggles would depend upon the military power 
which they would be able to manifest. The individual 
worker has no economic power, nor has the minority, 
and it may even be questioned if the withdrawal of all 
the organized workers could bring society to its knees. 
Multitudes of the small propertied classes, of farmers, 
of police, of militiamen, and of others would immediately 
rush to the defense of society in the time of such peril. 
It is only the working class theoretically conceived of as 
a conscious unit and as practically unanimous in its 
revolutionary aims, in its methods, and in its revolt which 
can be considered as the ultimate economic power of 
modem society. The day of such a conscious and en- 
lightened solidarity is, however, so far distant -that 
the syndicalism which is based upon it falls of itself 
into a fantastic dream. 



It is perhaps just as well to begin this chapter by 
reminding ourselves that anarchy means literally no 
government. Consequently, there will be no laws. "I 
am ready to make terms, but I will have no laws," said 
Proudhon; adding, "I acknowledge none." (i) How- 
ever revolutionary this may seem, it is, after all, not 
so very unlike what has always existed in the affairs of 
men. Without the philosophy of the idealist anarchist, 
with no pretense of justice or "nonsense" about equality, 
there have always been in this old world of ours those 
powerful enough to make and to break law, to brush 
aside the State and any and every other hindrance that 
stood in their path. "Laws are like spiders' webs," said 
Anacharsis, "and will, like them, only entangle and hold 
the poor and weak, while the rich and powerful will 
easily break through them." He might have said, with 
equal truth, that, with or without laws, the rich and 
powerful have been able in the past to do very much 
as they pleased. For the poor and the weak there have 
always been, to be sure, hard and fast rules that they 
could not break through. But the rich and powerful have 
always managed to live more or less above the State or, 
at least, so to dominate the State that to all intents and 
purposes, other than their own, it did not exist. When 
Bakounin wrote his startling and now famous decree 
abolishing the State, he created no end of hilarity among 



the Marxists, but had Bakounin been Napoleon with 
his mighty army, or Morgan and Rockefeller with their 
great wealth, he could no doubt in some measure have 
carried out his wish. Without, however, either wealth 
or numbers behind him, Bakounin preached a polity 
that, up to the present, only the rich and powerful have 
been able even partly to achieve. The anarchy of Prou- 
dhon was visionary, humanitarian, and idealistic. At 
least he thought he was striving for a more humane so- 
cial order than that of the present. But this older an- 
archism is as ancient as tyranny, and never at any mo- 
ment has it ceased to menace human civilization. Based 
on a real mastery over the industrial and political insti- 
tutions of mankind, this actual anarchy has never for 
long allowed the law, the Constitution, the State, or the 
flag to obstruct its path or thwart its avarice. 

Moreover, under the anarchism proposed by Proudhon 
and Bakounin, the maintenance of property rights, pviblic 
order, and personal security would be left to voluntary 
effort, that is to say, to private enterprise. As all things 
would be decided by mutual agreement, the only law 
would be a law of contracts, and that law would need 
to be enforced either by associations formed for that 
purpose or by professionals privately employed for that 
purpose. So far as one can see, then, the methods of 
the feudal lords would be revived, by which they hired 
their own personal armies or went shares in the spoils 
with their bandits, buccaneers, and assassins. By organ- 
izing their own military forces and maintaining them in 
comfort, they were able to rob, burn, and murder, in 
order to protect the wealth and power they had, or to 
gain more wealth and power. For them there was no 
law but that of a superior fighting force. There was 
an infinite variety of customs and traditions that were 


in the nature of laws, but even these were seldom al- 
lowed to stand in the way of those who coveted, and 
were strong enough to take, the land, the money, or the 
produce of others. Indeed, the feudal duke or prince 
was all that Nechayeff claimed for the modern robber. 
He was a glorified anarchist, "without phrase, without 
rhetoric." He could scour Europe for mercenaries, and, 
when he possessed himself of an army of marauders, he 
became a law unto himself. The most ancient and hon- 
orable anarchy is despotism, and its most effective and 
available means of domination have always been the em- 
ployment of its own personal military forces. 

It will be remembered that Bakounin developed a 
kind of robber worship. The bandit leaders Stenka 
Razin and Pougatchoff appeared to him as iiational 
heroes, popular avengers, and irreconcilable enemies of 
the State. He conceived of the brigands scattered 
throughout Russia and confined in the prisons of the 
Empire as "a unique and indivisible world, strongly 
bound together — ^the world of the Russian revolution." 
The robber was "the wrestler in life and in death against 
all this civilization of officials, of nobles, of priests, and 
of the crown." Of course, Bakounin says here much that 
is historically true. Thieves, marauders, highwaymen, 
bandits, brigands, villains, mendicants, and all those other 
elements of mediasval life for whom society provided 
neither land nor occupation, often organized themselves 
into guerilla bands in order to war upon all social and 
civil order. But Bakounin neglects to mention that it 
was these very elements that eagerly became the mercen- 
aries of any prince who could feed them. They were 
lawless, "without phrase, without rhetoric," and, if any- 
one were willing to pay them, they would gladly pillage, 
burn, and murder in his interest. They would have 


served anybody or anything — the State, society, a prince, 
or a tyrant. They had no scruples and no philosophies. 
They were in the market to be bought by anyone who 
wanted a choice brand of assassins. And the feudal 
duke or prince bought, fed, and cared for these "veritable 
and unique revolutionists," in order to have them ready 
for service in his work of robbery and murder. To 
be sure, when these marauders had no employer they 
were dangerous, because then they committed crimes and 
outrages on their own hook. But the vast majority of 
them were hirelings, and many of them achieved fame 
for the bravery of their exploits in the service of the 
dukes, the princes, and the priests of that time. There 
were even guilds of mercenaries, such as the Condottieri 
of Italy; and the Swiss were famous for their superior 
service. They were, it seems, revolutionists in Bakou- 
nin's use of the term, and every prince knew "no money, 
no Swiss" ("point d'argent, point de Suisse"). 

A very slight acquaintance with history teaches us 
that this anarchy has been checked and that the history 
of recent times consists largely of the struggles of the 
masses to harness and subdue this anarchy of the pow- 
erful. And perhaps the most notable step in that direction 
was that development of the State which took away 
the right of the nobles to employ and maintain their 
own private armies. In England, policing by the State 
began as late as 1826, when Sir Robert Peel passed the 
law establishing the Metropolitan force in London, and 
these agents of order are even now called "Bobbies" and 
"Peelers," in memory of him. Throughout all Europe 
the military, naval, and police forces are to-day in the 
hands of the State. We have, then, in contradistinction 
to the old anarchy, the State maintenance of law and 
order, and of protection to life and property. Even in 


Russia the coercive forces are under the control of the 
Government, and nowhere are individuals — ^be they 
Grand Dukes or Princes — allowed to employ their own 
military forces. When trouble arises- without, it is the 
State that calls together its armed men for aggression 
or for defense. When trouble arises within — such as 
strikes, riots, and insurrections — it is the State that is 
supposed to deal with them. Individuals, no matter how 
powerful, are not to-day permitted to organize armies 
to invade a foreign land, to subdue its people, and to 
wrest from them their property. In the case of upris- 
ings within a country, the individual is not allowed to 
raise his armies, subdue the troublesome elements, and 
make himself master. Within the last few centuries the 
State has thus gradually drawn to itself the powers of 
repression, of coercion, and of aggression, and it is the 
State alone that is to-day allowed to maintain military 

At any rate, this is true of all civilized countries 
except the United States. This is the only modern State 
wherein coercive military powers are still wielded by in-, 
dividu'als. In the United States it is still possible for rich 
and powerful individuals or for corporations to employ 
their own bands of armed men. If any legislator were 
to propose a law allowing any man or group of men to 
have their own private battleships and to organize their 
own private navies and armies, or if anyone suggested 
the turning over of the coercive powers of the State to 
private enterprise, the masses would rise in rebellion 
against the project. No congressman would, of course, 
venture to suggest such a law, and few individuals would 
undertake to defend such a plan. Yet the fact is that 
now, without legal authority, private armies may be em- 
ployed and are indeed actually employed in the United 


States. In the most stealthy and insidious manner there 
has grown up within the last fifty years an extensive and 
profitable commerce for supplying to the lords of finance 
Jheir own private police. And the strange fact appears 
'that the newest, and supposedly the least feudal, country 
is to-day the only country that allows the oldest anar- 
chists to keep in their hands the power to arm their own 
mercenaries and,. in the words of an eminent Justice, to 
expose "the lives of citizens to the murderous assaults 
of hireling assassins." (2) It is with these "hireling 
assassins," who, for the convenience of the wealthy, are 
now supplied by a great network of agencies, that we 
shall chiefly concern ourselves in this chapter. We must 
here leave Europe, since it is in the United States alone 
that the workings of this barbarous commerce in anarchy 
can be observed. 

/' Robert A. Pinkerton was the originator of a system of 
extra-legal police agents that has gradually grown to be 
one of the chief commercial enterprises of the country. 
According to his own testimony, (3) he began in 1866 
to supply armed men to the owners of large industries, 
and ever since his firm has carried on a profitable busi- 
ness in that field. Envious of his prosperity, other indi- 
viduals have formed rival agencies, and to-day there 
exist in the United States thousands of so-called detec- 
tive bureaus where armed men can be employed to do 
the bidding of any wealthy individual. While, no doubt, 
there are agencies that conduct a thoroughly legitimate 
business, there are unquestionably numerous agencies in 
this country where one may employ thugs, thieves, in- 
cendiaries, dynamiters, perjurers, jury-fixers, manufac- 
turers of evidence, strike-breakers and murderers. A 
regularly established commerce exists, which enables a 
rich man, without great difficulty or peril, to hire aban- 


doned criminals, who, for certain prices, will undertake 
to execute any crime. If one can afford it, one may have 
always at hand a body of highwaymen or a small private 
^rmy. Such a commerce as this was no doubt necessary 
and proper in the Middle Ages and would no doubt be 
necessary and proper in a state of anarchy, but when 
/ individuals are allowed to employ private police, armies, 
thugs, and assassins in a country which possesses a regu- 
larly established State, courts, laws, military forces, and 
police the traffic constitutes a menace as alarming as the 
Black Hand, the Camorra, or the Mafia. The story of 
these hired terrorists and of this ancient anarchy revived 
surpasses in cold-blooded criminality any other thing 
known in modern history. That rich and powerful 
patrons should be allowed to purchase in the market poor 
and desperate criminals eager to commit any crime on 
i the calendar for a few dollars, is one of the most amaz- 
\ing and incredible anachronisms of a too self-complaisant 

For some reason not wholly obscure the American 
people generally have been kept in such ignorance of 
the facts of this commerce that few even dream -that 
it exists. And I am fully conscious of the need for proof 
in support of what to many must appear to be unwar- 
ranted assertions. Indeed, it is rare to find anyone who 
suspects the character of the private detective. ■ The 
general impression seems to- be that he performs a very 
useful and necessary service, that the profession is an 
honorable one, and that the mass of detectives have only 
one ambition in life, and that is to ferret out the crim- 
inal and to bring him to justice. To denounce detectives 
as a class appears to most persons as absurdly unreason- 
able. To speak of them with contempt is to convey the 
impression that detectives stand in the way of some evil 


schemes of their detractor. Fiction of a peculiarly 
American sort has built up among the people an exalted 
conception of the sleuth. And it must appear with 
rather a shock to those persons who have thus idealized/ 
the detective to learn that thousands of men who have 
been in the penitentiaries are constantly in the emploi 
of the detective agencies. In a society which makes it 
almost impossible for an ex-convict to earn an honorable 
living it is no wonder that many of them grasp eagerly 
at positions offered them as "strike-breakers" and a? 
"special officers." The first and most important thing, 
then, in this chapter is to prove, with perhaps undue de- 
tail, the ancient saying that "you must be a thief to catcll 
a thief," and that possibly for that proverbial reason\ 
many private detectives are schooled and practiced m\ 
crime. ^— - 

So far as I know, the first serious attempt to inform 
the general public of the real character of American de- 
tectives and to tell of their extensive traffic in criminality 
was made by a British detective, who, after having been 
stationed in America for several years, was impelled 
to make public the alarming conditions which he found. 
This was Thomas Beet, the American representative of 
the famous John Conquest, ex-Chief Inspector of Scot- 
land Yard, who, in a public statement, declared his as- 
tonishment that "few . . . recognize in them [de- 
tective agencies] an evil which is rapidly becoming a vital 
menace to American society. Ostensibly conducted for 
the repression and punishment of crime, they are in fact 
veritable hotbeds of corruption, trafficking upon the honor 
and sacred confidences of their patrons and the credulity 
of the public, and leaving in their wake an aftermath of 
disgrace, disaster, and even death." (4) He pointed out 
the odium that must inevitably attach itself to the very 


name "private detective," unless society awakens and 
protects in some manner the honest members of the pro- 
fession. "It may seem a sweeping statement," he says, 
"but I am morally convinced that fully ninety per cent, 
of the private detective establishments, masquerading in 
whatever form, are rotten to the core and simply exist 
and thrive upon a foundation of dishonesty, deceit, con- 
spiracy, and treachery to the public in general and their 
own patrons in particular." (5) 

The statements of Thomas Beet are, however, not all 
of this general character, and he specifically says: "I 
know that there are detectives at the head of prominent 
agencies in this country whose pictures adorn the rogues' 
gallery; men who have served time in various prisons 
for almost every crime on the calendar. . . . Thugs 
and thieves and criminals don the badge and outward 
semblance of the honest private detective in order that 
they may prey upon society. . . . Private detectives 
such as I have described do not, as a usual thing, go out 
to learn facts, but rather to make, at all costs, the evi- 
dence desired by the patron." (6) He shows the meth- 
ods of trickery and deceit by which these detectives 
blackmail the wealthy, and the various means they em- 
ploy for convicting any man, no matter how innocent, of 
any crime. "We shudder when we hear of the system 
of espionage maintained in Russia," he adds, "while in 
the great American cities, unnoticed, are organizations of 
spies and informers." (7) It is interesting to get the 
views of an impartial and expert observer upon this 
rapidly growing commerce in espionage, blackmail, and 
assault, and no less interesting is the opinion of the most 
notable American detective, William J. Burns, on the 
character of these men. Speaking of detectives he de- 
clared that, "as a class, they are the biggest lot of black- 


mailing thieves that ever went unwhipped of justice." (8) 
Only a short time before Burns made this remark the 
late Magistrate Henry Steinert, according to reports in 
the New York press, grew very indignant in his court 
over the shooting of a young lad by these private offi- 
cers. "I think it an outrage," he declared, "that the 
Police Commissioner is enabled to furnish police power 
to these special officers, many of them thugs, men out 
of work, some of whom would commit murder for two 
dollars. Most of the arrests which have been made by 
these men have been absolutely unwarranted. In nearly 
every case one of these special officers had first pushed 
a gun into the prisoner's face. The shooting last night 
when a boy was killed shows the result of giving power 
to such men. It is a shame and a disgrace to the Police 
Department of the city that such conditions are allowed 
to exist." (9) 

Anyone who will take the time to search through the 
testimony gathered by various governmental commis- 
sions will find an abundance of evidence indicating that 
many of these special officers and private detectives are 
in reality thugs and criminals. As long ago as 1892 anV 
inquiry was made into the character of the men who] 
were sent to deal with a strike at Homestead, Pennsyl- 
vania. A well-known witness testified: "We find that] 
one is accused of wife-murder, four of burglary, two of 
wife-beating, and one of arson." (10) A thoroughlyj 
reliable and responsible detective, who had been in'-tfie 
United States secret service, also gave damaging testi- 
mony. "They were the scum of the earth. . . . There 
is not one out of ten that would not commi^ mur- 
der;, that you could not hire him to commit murder 
or any other crime." Furthermore, he declared, "I would-, 
not believe any detective under oath without his evidence 


was corroborated." He spoke of ex-convicts being em- 
ployed, and alleged that the manager of one of the large 
agencies "was run out of Cincinnati for blackmail." ( 1 1 ) 
Similar statements were made by another detective, 
named Le Vin, to the Industrial Commission of the 
United States when it was investigating the Chicago labor 
troubles of 1900. He declared that the Contractors' As- 
sociation of Chicago had come to him repeatedly to em- 
ploy sluggers, and that on one occasion the employers 
had told him to put Winchesters in the hands of his 
men and to manage somehow to get into a fight with 
the pickets and the strikers. The Commission, evidently 
surprised at this testimony, asked Mr. Le Vin whether 
it was possible to hire detectives to beat up men. His 
answer was: "You cannot hire every man to do it." 
"Q. 'But can they hire men ?' A. 'Yes, they could hire 

"Q. 'From other private detective agencies?' A. 
'Unfortunately, from some, yes.'" (12) 

In the hearing before a Subcommittee of the Commit- 
tee on the Judiciary, United States Senate, August 13, 
1912, lengthy testimony was given concerning a series^of^ 
two hundred assaults that had been made upon the union 
molders of Milwaukee during a strike in 1906. One of 
the leaders of the union was killed, while others were 
brutally attacked by thugs in the employ of a Chicago 
detective agency. A serious investigation was begun by 
Attorney W. B. Rubin, acting for the Molders' "Union, 
and in court the evidence clearly proved that the Chicago 
detective agency employed ex-convicts and other criminals 
for the purposes of slugging, shooting, and even killing 
union men. When some of these detectives were ar- 
rested they testified that they had acted under strict in- 
structions. They had been sent out to beat up certain 


men. Sometimes these men were pointed out to them, 
at other times they were given the names of the men that 
were to be slugged. They told the amounts that they had 
been paid, of the lead pipe, two feet long, which they 
had used for the assault, and of the fact that they were 
all armed. There was also testimony given that nearly 
twenty-two thousand dollars had been paid by one firm to 
this one detective agency for services of this character. 
It was also shown that immediately after the assaults 
were committed the thugs were, if possible, shipped out 
of town for a few days; but, if they were arrested, 
they were defended by able attorneys and their fines 
paid. Although many assaults were committed where 
no arrests could be made, over forty "detectives" were 
actually arrested, and, when brought into court, were 
found guilty of crimes ranging from disturbing the peace 
and carrying concealed weapons to aggravated assault 
and shooting with intent to kill. Many of these detec- 
tives convicted in Milwaukee had been previously con- 
victed of similar crimes committed in other cities. Al- 
though some of them had long criminal records, they 
were, nevertheless, regularly in the employ of the detec- 
tive agency. It appeared in one trial that one of the men 
employed was very much incensed when he saw three of 
his associates attack a union molder with clubs, knock- 
ing him down and beating him severely. With indigna- 
tion he protested against the outrage. When the head 
of the agency heard of this the man was discharged. 
The court records also show that the head of the detec- 
tive agency had gone himself tp Chicago to secure two 
men to undertake what proved to be a fatal assault upon 
a trade-union leader named Peter J. Cramer. When 
arrested and brought into court they testified that they 
received twenty dollars per day for their services. 


Equally direct and positive evidence concerning the 
character of the men supplied by detective agencies for 
strike-breaking and other purposes is found in the annual 
report of the Chicago & Great Western Railway for the 
period ending in the spring of the year 1908. "To man 
the shops and roundhouses," says the report, "the com- 
pany was compelled to resort to professional strike- 
breakers, a class of men who are willing to work during 
the excitement and dangers of personal injury which at- 
tend strikes, but who refuse to work longer than the 
excitement and dangers last. . . . Perhaps ten per 
cent, of the first lot of strike-breakers were fairly good 
mechanics, but fully 90 per cent, knew nothing about 
machinery, and had to be gotten rid of. To get rid of 
such men, however, is easier said than done. 

"The first batch which was discharged, consisting of 
about 100 men, refused to leave the barricade, made 
themselves a barricade within the company's barricade, 
and, producing guns and knives, refused to budge. The 
company's fighting men, after a day or two, forced them 
out of the barricade and into a special train, which car- 
ried them under guard to Chicago." Here was one gang 
of hired criniinals, "the company's fighting men," called 
into service to fight another gang, the company's strike- 
breakers. The character of these "detectives," as testified 
to in this case by the employers, appears to have been 
about the same as that of those described by "Kid" Ho- 
gan, who, after an experience as a strike-breaker, told 
the New York Sunday World: "There was the finest 
bunch of crooks and grafters working as strike-breakers 
in those American Express Company strikes you would 
ever want to see. I was one of 'em and know what I 
am talking about. That gang of grafters cost the Express 
Company a pile of money. Why, they used to start 


trouble themselves just to keep their jobs a-going and to 
get a chance to swipe stuff off the wagons. 

"It was the same way down at Philadelphia on the 
street car strike. Those strike-breakers used to get a 
car out somewhere in the suburbs and then get off and 
smash up the windows, tip the car over, and put up an 
awful holler about being attacked by strikers, just so 
they'd have to be kept on the job." (13) 

Thus we see that some American "detective" agencies 
have many and varied trades. But they not only sup- 
ply strike-breakers, perjurers, spies, and even assassins, 
they have also been successful in making an utter farce 
of trial by jury. It appears that even some of the best 
known American detectives are not above the packing 
of a jury. At least, such was the startling charge made 
by Attorney-General George W. Wickersham, May 10, 
1912. In the report to President Taft Mr. Wickersham 
accused the head of one of the chief detective agencies 
of the country of fixing a jury in California. The agents 
of this detective, with the cooperation of the clerk of the 
court, investigated the names of proposed jurors. In 
order to be sure of getting a jury that would convict, 
the record of each individual was carefully gone into 
and a report handed to the prosecuting attorneys. Some 
of the comments on the jurors follow : "Convictor 
from the word go." "Socialist. Anti-Mitchell." "Con- 
victor from the word go ; just read the indictment. Pop- 
ulist." "Think he is a Populist. If so, convictor. Good, 
reliable man." "Convictor. Democrat. Hates Her- 
mann." "Hidebound Democrat. Not apt to see any good 
in a Republican." "Would be apt to be for conviction." 
"He is apt to wish Mitchell hung. Think he would be 
a fair .juror." "Would be likely to convict any Republi- 
can politician." "Convictor." "Would convict Christ." 



"Convict Christ. Populist." "Convict anyone. Demo- 1 
crat." (14) This great detective even had the audacity, 
it seems, to telegraph William Scott Smith, at that time 
secretary to the Hon. E. A. Hitchcock, the Secretary of 
the Interior: "Jury commissioners cleaned out old box I 
from which trial jurors were selected and put in 600 
names, every one of which was investigated before they 
were placed in the box. This confidential." (15) It is^ 
impossible to reproduce here some of the language of 
this great detective. The foul manner in which he 
comments upon the character of the jurors is altogether 
worthy of his vocation. That, however, is unimportant 
compared to the more serious fact that a well-paid de- 
tective can so pervert trial by jury that it would "con- 
vict Christ." 

I shall be excused in a matter so devastating to re- 
publican institutions as this if I quote further from the 
disclosures of Thomas Beet : "There is another phase," 
he says, "of the private detective evil which has worked 
untold damage in America. This is the private con- 
stabulary system by which armed forces are employed 
during labor troubles. It is a condition akin to the feudal 
system of warfare, when private interests can employ 
troops of mercenaries to wage war at their command. 
Ostensibly, these armed private detectives are hurried to 
the scene of the trouble to maintain order and prevent 
destruction of property, although this work always should 
be left to the official guardians of the peace. That there 
is a sinister motive back of the employment of these men 
has been shown time and again. Have you ever followed 
the episodes of a great strike and noticed that most of 
the disorderly outbreaks were so guided as to work harm 
to the interests of the strikers? . . . Private detec- 
tives, unsuspected in their guise of workmen, mingle 


with the strikers and by incendiary talk or action some- 
times stir them up to violence. When the workmen will 
not participate, it is an easy matter to stir up the dis- 
orderly faction which is invariably attracted by a strike, 
although it has no connection therewith. 
-^ "During a famous strike of car builders in a western 
city some years ago, ... to my knowledge much 
of the lawlessness was incited by private detectives, who 
led mobs in the destruction of property. In one of the 
greatest of our strikes, that involving the steel industry, 
over two thousand armed detectives were employed sup- 
posedly to protect property, while several hundred more 
were scattered in the ranks of strikers as workmen. 
Many of the latter became officers in the labor bodies, 
helped to make laws for the organizations, made incen- 
diary speeches, cast their votes for the most radical 
movements made by the strikers, participated in and led 
bodies of the members in the acts of lawlessness that 
eventually caused the sending of State troops and the 
declaration of martial law. While doing this, these spies 
within the ranks were making daily reports of the plans 
and purposes of the strikers. To my knowledge, when 
lawlessness was at its height and murder ran riot, these 
men wore little patches of white on the lapels of their 
coats that their fellow detectives of the 'two thousand' 
would not shoot them down by mistake. . . . In no 
other country in the world, with the exception of China, 
is it possible for an individual to surround himself with 
a standing army to do his bidding in defiance of law and 
order." (16) 

That the assertions of Thomas Beet are well founded 
can, I think, be made perfectly clear by three tragic pe- 
riods in the history of labor disputes in America. At 
Homestead in 1892, in the railway strikes of 1894, and 


in Colorado during the labor wars of 1903- 1904 detectives 
were employed on a large scale. For reasons of space I 
shall limit myself largely to these cases, which, without 
exaggeration, are typical of conditions which constantly 
arise in the United States. Within the last year West 
Virginia has been added to the list. Incredible outrages 
have been committed there by the mine guards. They 
have deliberately murdered men in some cases, and, on 
one dark night in February last, they sent an armored 
train into Holly Grove and opened fire with machine guns 
upon a sleeping village of miners. They have beaten, 
clubbed, and stabbed men and women in the effort either 
to infuriate them into open war, or to reduce them to 
abject slavery. Unfortunately, at this time the complete 
report of the Senate investigation has not been issued, 
and it seems better to confine these pages to those facts 
only that careful inquiry has proved unquestionable. We 
are fortunate in having the reports of public officials — 
certainly unbiased on the side of labor — ^to rely upon 
for the facts concerning the use of thugs and hirelings 
in Pennsylvania, Illinois, and Colorado during three ter- 
rible battles between capital and labor. ~_^ 
The story of the shooting of Henry C. Frick by Alex- ' 
ander Berkman is briefly referred to in the first chapter, 
but the events which led up to that shooting have well- 
nigh been forgotten. Certainly, nothing could have 
created more bitterness among the working classes than 
the act of the Carnegie Steel Company when it ordered 
a detective agency to send to Homestead three hundred 
men armed with Winchester rifles. There was the pros- 
pect of a strike, and it appears that the management 
was in no mood to parley with its employees, and that 
nineteen days before any trouble occurred the Carnegie 
Steel Company opened negotiations for the employment 


of a private army. It had been the custom of the Carne- 
gie Company to meet the representatives of the Almaga- 
mated Association of Iron and Steel Workers from time 
to time and at these conferences to agree upon wages. 
On June 30, 1892, the agreement expired, and previous 
to that date the Company announced a reduction of 
wages, declaring that the new scale would terminate in 
January instead of June. The employees rejected the 
proposed terms, principally on the ground that they could 
not afford to strike in midwinter and in that case they 
would not be able to resist a further reduction in wages. 
Upon receiving this statement the company locked out its 
employees and the battle began. 

The steel works were surrounded by a fence three 
miles long, fifteen feet in height, and covered with barbed 
wire. It was called "Fort Frick," and the three hundred 
detectives were to be brought down the river by boat and 
landed in the fort. Morris Hillquit gives the following 
account of the pitched battle that occurred in the early 
morning hours of July 6 : "As soon as the boat carrying 
the Pinkertons was sighted by the pickets the alarm was 
sounded. The strikers were aroused from their sleep 
and within a few minutes the river front was covered 
with a crowd of coatless and hatless men armed with 
guns and rifles and grimly determined to prevent the 
landing of the Pinkertons. The latter, however, did not 
seem to appreciate the gravity of the situation. They 
sought to intimidate the strikers by assuming a threat- 
ening attitude and aiming the muzzles of their shining 
revolvers at them. A moment of intense expectation 
followed. Then a shot was fired from the boat and one 
of the strikers fell to the ground mortally wounded. A 
howl of fury and a volley of bullets came back from the 
line of the strikers, and a wild fusillade was opened on 


both sides. In vain did the strike leaders attempt to 
pacify the men and to stop the carnage — ^the strikers 
were beyond control. The struggle lasted several hours, 
after which the Pirikertons retreated from the river bank 
and withdrew to the cabin of the boat. There they re- 
mained in the sweltering heat of the July sun without 
air or ventilation, under the continuing fire of the en- 
raged men on the shore, until they finally surrendered. 
They were imprisoned by the strikers in a rink, and in 
the evening they were sent out of town by rail. The 
number of dead on both sides was twelve, and over 
twenty were seriously wounded." (17) 

These events aroused the entire country, and the state 
of mind among the working people generally was exceed- 
ingly bitter. It was a tension that under certain circum- 
stances might have provoked a civil war. Both the 
Senate and the House of Representatives immediately 
appointed committees to inquire into this movement from 
state to state of armed men, and the employment by 
corporations of what amounted to a private army. It 
seems to have been clearly established that the employers 
wanted war, and that the attorney of the Carnegie Com- 
pany had commanded the local sheriff to deputize a man 
named Gray, who was to meet the mercenaries and make 
all of them deputy sheriffs. This plan to make the 
detectives "legal" assassins did not carry, and the result 
was that a band of paid thugs, thieves, and murderers 
invaded Homestead and precipitated a bloody conflict. 
This was, of course, infamous, and, compared with its 
magnificent anarchy, Berkman's assault was child-like in 
its simplicity. Yet the enthusiastic and idealistic Berk- 
man spent seventeen years in prison and is still ab- 
horred; while no one responsible for the murder of 
twelve workingmen and the wounding of twenty others, 


either among the mercenaries or their employers, has 
yet been apprehended or convicted. With such equality 
of jjistice do we treat these agents of the two anarchies ! 
However, if Berkman spent seventeen years in prison, 
the other anarchists were mildly rebuked by the Commit- 
tee of Investigation appointed by the Senate. "Your 
committee is of the opinion," runs the report, "that the 
employment of the private armed guards at Homestead 
was unnecessary. There is no evidence to show that the 
slightest damage was done, or attempted to be done, to 
property on the part of the strikers. . . ." (18) 
"It was claimed by the Pinkerton agency that in all cases 
they require that their men shall be sworn in as deputy 
sheriffs, but it is a significant circumstance that in the 
only strike your committee made inquiry concerning — 
that at Homestead — ^the fact was admitted on all hands 
that the armed men supplied by the Pinkertons were not 
so sworn, and that as private citizens acting under the 
direction of such of their own men as were in command 
they fired upon the people of Homestead, killing and 
wounding a number." (19) "Every man who testified, 
including the proprietors of the detective agencies, ad- 
mitted that the workmen are strongly prejudiced against 
the so-called Pinkertons, and that their presence at a 
strike serves to unduly inflame the passions of the strik- 
ers. The prejudice against them arises partly from the 
fact that they are frequently placed among workmen, in 
the disguise of mechanics, to report alleged conversations 
to their agencies, which, in turn, is transmitted to the 
employers of labor. Your committee is impressed with 
the belief that this is an utterly vicious system, and that 
it is responsible for much of the ill-feeling and bad blood 
displayed by the working classes. No self-respecting 
laborer or mechanic likes to feel that the man beside 


him may be a spy from a detective agency, and espe- 
cially so when the laboring man is utterly at the mercy 
of the detective, who can report whatever he, 
be it true or false. . . . (20) Whether assumedly 
legal or not, the employment of armed bodies of 
men for private purposes, either by employers or em- 
ployees, is to be deprecated and should not be resorted to. 
Such use of private armed men is an assumption of the 
State's authority by private citizens. If the State is 
incapable of protecting citizens in their rights of person 
and property, then anarchy is the result, and the original 
law of force should neither be approved, encouraged, nor 
tolerated until all known legal processes have failed." 


We must leave this black page in American history 
with such comfort as we can wring from the fact that 
the modern exponents of the oldest anarchy have been 
at least once rebuked, and with the further satisfaction 
that the Homestead tragedy brought momentarily to the 
attention of the entire nation a practice which even at 
that time was a source of great alarm to many serious 
men. In the great strikes which occurred in the late 
eighties and early nineties there was a great deal of vio> 
lence, and C. H. Salmons, in his history of "The Bur- 
lington Strike" of 1888, relates how private detectives 
systematically planned outrages that destroyed property 
and how others committed murder. A few cases were 
fought out in the courts with results very disconcerting 
to the railroads who had hired thesfe private detectivesx 
In the strike on the New York Central Railroad wtjich-. 
occurred in 1890 many detectives were employed. They] 
were, of course, armed, and, as a result of certain crim- 
inal operations undertaken by them, Congress was asked 
to consider the drafting of a bill "to prevent corpora- 


tions engaged in interstate-commerce traffic from employ- 
ing unjustifiably large bodies of armed men denominated 
'detectives,' but clothed with no legal functions." (22) 
Roger A. Pryor, then Justice of the Supreme Court of 
New York, vigorously protested against these "watch- 
men." "I mean," he said, "the enlistment of banded 
and armed mercenaries under the command of private 
detectives on the side of corporations in their conflicts 
with employees. The pretext for such an extraordinary 
measure is the protection of the corporate property ; and 
surely the power of this great State is adequate to the 
preservation of the public order and security. At all 
events, in this particular instance, it was not pretended 
either that the strikers had invaded property or person, 
or that the police or militia in Albany had betrayed re- 
luctance or inability to cope with the situation. On the 
contrary, the facts are undisputed that the moment the 
men went out Mr. Pinkerton and his myrmidons ap- 
peared on the scene, and the police of Albany declared 
their competency to repel any trespass on person or 
property. The executive of the State, too, denied any 
necessity for the presence of the military. 

"I do not impute to the railroad officials a purpose, 
without provocation, to precipitate their ruffians upon a 
defenseless and harmless throng of spectators; but the 
fact remains that the ruffians in their hire did shoot into 
the crowd without occasion, and did so shed innocent 
blood. And it is enough to condemn the system that it 
authorizes unofficial and irresponsible persons to usurp 
the most delicate and difficult functions of the State and 
exposes the lives of citizens to the murderous assaults 
of hireling assassins, stimulated to violence by panic or 
by the suggestion of employers to strike terror by an 
appalling exhibition of force. If the railroad company 


may enlist armed men to defend its property, the em- 
ployees may enlist armed men to defend their persons, 
and thus private war be inaugurated, the authority of 
the State defied, the peace and tranquillity of society de- 
stroyed, and the citizens exposed to the hazard of indis- 
criminate slaughter." (23) »— 

Perhaps the^ most extensive use of these so-called de- 
tectives was at the time of the great railway strike of 
1894. The strike of the workers at Pullman led to a 
general sympathetic strike on all the railroads entering 
Chicago, and from May 11 to July 13 there was waged 
one of the greatest industrial battles in American history. 
A railway strike is always a serious matter, and in a 
short time the Government came to the active support of 
the railroads. At one time over fourteen thousand sol- 
diers, deputy marshals, deputy sheriffs, and policemen 
were on duty in Chicago. During the period of the 
strike twelve persons were shot and fatally wounded. 
A number of riots occurred, cars were burned, and, as a 
result of the disturbances, no less than seven hundred 
persons were arrested, accused of murder, arson, burglary, 
assault, intimidation, riot, and other crimes. The most - 
accurate information we have concerning conditions in 
Chicago during the strike is to be found in the evidence 
which was taken by the United States Strike Commission 
appointed by President Cleveland July 26, 1894. There 
seems to be no doubt that during the early days of the 
strike perfect peace reigned in Chicago. At the very be- 
ginning of the trouble three hundred strikers were de- 
tailed by the unions to guard the property of the Pull- 
man company from any interference or destruction. "It 
is in evidence, and uncontradicted," reports the Commis- 
sion, "that no violence or destruction of property by 
strikers or sympathizers took place at Pullman." (24) 


It also appears that no violence occurred in Chicago in 
connection with the strike until after several thousand 
men were made United States deputy marshals. These 
"United States deputy marshals." says the Commission, 
"to the number of 3,600, were selected by and appointed 
at the request of the General Managers' Association, and 
of its railroads. They, were armed and paid by the rail- 
roads." (25) In other words, the United States Govern- 
ment gave over its police power directly into the hands 
of one of the combatants. It allowed these private com- 
panies, through detective agencies, to collect as hastily as 
possible a great body of unemployed, to arm them, and 
to send them out as officials of the United States to do 
whatsoever was desired by the railroads. They were not 
under the control of the army or of responsible United 
States officials, and their intrusion into a situation so 
tense and critical as that then existing in Chicago' was 
certain to produce trouble. And the fact is, the lawless- 
ness that prevailed in Chicago during that strike began 
only after the appearance of these private "detectives." 
It will astonish the ordinary American citizen to read 
of the character of the men to whom the maintenance of 
law and order was entrusted. Superintendent of Police 
Brennan referred to these deputy marshals in an official 
report to the Council of Chicago as "thugs, thieves, and 
ex-convicts," and in his testimony before the Commission 
itself he said: "Some of the deputy marshals who are 
now over in the county jail . . . were arrested while 
deputy marshals for highway robbery." (26) Several 
newspaper men, when asked to testify regarding the char- 
acter of these United States deputies, referred to them 
variously as "drunkards," "loafers," "bums," and "crim- 
inals." The now well-known journalist, Ray Stannard 
Baker, was at that time reporting the strike for the Chi- 


cago Record. He was asked by Commissioner Carroll 
D. Wright as to the character of the United States deputy 
marshals. His answer was : "From my experience with 
them I think it was very bad indeed. I saw more cases 
of drunkenness, I believe, among the United States dep- 
uty marshals than I did among the strikers." (27) Ben- 
jamin H. Atwell, reporter for the Chicago News, testi- 
fied: "Many of the marshals were men I had known 
around Chicago as saloon characters. . . . The first 
day, I believe, after the troops arrived . . . the dep- 
uty marshals went up into town and some of them got 
pretty drunk." (28) Malcomb McDowell, reporter for 
the Chicago Record, testified that the deputy marshals 
and deputy sheriffs "were not the class of men who ought 
to be made deputy marshals or deputy sheriffs. . . . 
They seemed to be hunting trouble all the time. . . . 
At one time a serious row nearly resulted because some 
of the deputy marshals standing on the railroad track 
jeered at the women that passed and insulted them. 
. . . I saw more deputy sheriffs and deputy marshals 
drunk than I saw strikers drunk." (29) Harold I. Cleve- 
land, reporter for the Chicago Herald, testified: "I was 
. . . on the Western Indiana tracks for fourteen days 
. . . and I suppose I saw in that time a couple of 
I hundred deputy marshals. ... I think they were a 
\ very low, contemptible set of men." (30) 
V In Mr. Baker's testimony he speaks of seeing in one 
of the riots "a big, rough-looking fellow, whom the people 
called 'Pat.'" (31) He was the leader of the mob, and 
when the riot was over, "he mounted a beer keg in front 
of one of the saloons and advised men to go home, get 
their guns, and come out and fight the troops, fire on 
them. . . . The same man appeared two nights later 
at Whiting, Indiana, and made quite a disturbance there, 


roused the people up. In all that mob that had hold of 
the ropes I do not think there were many American Rail- 
way Union men. I think they were mostly roughs from 
Chicago. . . . The police knew well enough all about 
this man I have mentioned who was the ringleader of the 
mob, but they did nothing and the deputy marshals were 
not any better." (32) For some inscrutable reason, cer- 
tain men, none of whom were railroad employees, were 
allowed openly to provoke violence. Fortunately, how- 
ever, they were not able to induce the actual strikers to 
participate in their assaults upon railroad property, and 
every newspaper man testified that the riots were, in the 
main, the work of the vicious elements of Chicago. They 
were, said one witness, "all loafers, idlers, a petty class 
of criminals well known to the police." (33) Malcomb 
McDowell testified concerning one riot which he had 
reported for the papers: "The men did not look like 
railroad men. . . . Most of them were foreigners, 
and one of the men in the crowd told me afterward that 
he was a detective from St. Louis. He gave me the name 
of the agency at the time." (34) 

Mr. Eugene V. Debs, the leader of that great strike, 
in a pamphlet entitled The Federal Government and the 
Chicago Strike, calls particular attention to the following 
declaration of the United States Strike Commission: 
"There is no evidence before the Commission that the 
officers of the American Railway Union at any time par- 
ticipated in or advised intimidation, violence or destruc- 
tion of property. They knew and fully appreciated that, 
as soon as mobs ruled, the organized forces of society 
would crush the mobs and all responsible for them in the 
remotest degree, and that this means defeat." (35) Cont 
menting upon this statement, Mr. Debs asks : "To whose ■, 
interest was it to have riots and fires, lawlessness andf 


irime ? To whose advantage was it to have disreputable 
/deputies' do these things ? Why were only freight cars, 
largely hospital wrecks, set on fire? Why have the rail- 
roads not yet recovered damages from Cook County, 
Illinois, for failing to protect their property? . . . 
The riots and incendiarism turned defeat into victory 
for the railroads. They could have won in no other 
way. They had ever)rthing to gain and the strikers every- 
thing to lose. The violence was instigated in spite of 
the strikers, and the report of the Commission proves 
that they made every eifort in their power to preserve 
the peace." (36) 

This history is important in a study of the extensive 
system of subsidized violence that has grown up in 
America. Nearly every witness before the Commission 
testified that the strikers again and again gave the police 
valuable assistance in protecting the property of the 
railroads. No testimony was given that the workingmen 
advocated violence or that union men assisted in the riots. 
The ringleaders of all the serious outbreaks were notori- 
ous toughs from Chicago's vicious sections, and they 
were allowed to go for days unmolested by the deputy 
marshals — who, although representatives of the United 
States Government, were in the pay of the railroads. 
In fact, the evidence all points to the one conclusion, that 
the deputy marshals encouraged the violence of ruffians 
and tried to provoke the violence of decent men by in- 
sulting, drunken, and disreputable conduct. The strikers 
realized that violence was fatal to their cause, and the 
deputy marshals knew that violence meant victory for 
the railroads. And that proved to be the case. 1_ 

Before leaving this phase of anarchy I want to refer 
as briefly as possible to that series of fiercely fought 
political and industrial battles that occurred in Colorado 


^n the period from 1894 to 1904. The climax of the 
long-drawn-out battles there was perhaps the most un- 
adulterated anarchy that has yet been seen in America. 
It was a terrorism of powerful and influential anarchists 
who frankly and brutally answered those who protested 
against their many violations of the United States Con- 
_stitution: "To hell with the Constitution!" (37) The 
story of these Colorado battles is told in a report of an in- 
vestigation made by the United States Commissioner of 
Labor (1905). The reading of that report leaves one 
with the impression that present-day society rests upon 
a volcano, which in favorable periods seems very harm-' 
less indeed, but, when certain elemental forces clash, it 
bursts forth in a manner that threatens with destruction 
civilization itself. The trouble in Colorado began with ' 
the effort on the part of the miners' union to obtain 
through the legislature a law limiting the day's work 
to eight hours in all underground mines and in all work 
for reducing and refining ores. That was in 1894. The 
next year an eight-hour bill was presented in the legis- 
lature. Expressing fear that such a bill might be un- 
constitutional, the legislature, before acting upon it, asked 
the Supreme Court to render a decision. The Supreme 
Court replied that, in its opinion, such a bill would be 
unconstitutional. In 1899, as a result of further agita- 
tion by the miners, an eight-hour law was enacted by 
the legislature — a large majority in both houses voting 
for the bill. By unanimous decision the same year the 
Supreme Court of Colorado declared the statute uncon- 
stitutional. The miners were not, however, discouraged, 
and they began a movement to secure the adoption of a 
constitutional amendment which would provide for the 
enactment of an eight-hour law. All the political parties 
in the State of Colorado pledged themselves in convention 

to support such a measure. In the general election of 

1902 the constitutional amendment providing for an 
feight-hour day was adopted by the people of the State 
/by 72,980 votes against 26,266. This wras a great vic- 
tory for the miners, and it seemed as if their work was 
done. According to all the traditions and pretensions of 
political life, they had every reason to believe that the 
next session of the legislature would pass an eight-hour 
law. It appears, however, that the corporations had de- 
termined at all cost to defeat such a bill. They set out" 
therefore to corrupt wholesale the legislature, and as a 
result the eight-hour bill was defeated. After having 
done everything in their power, patiently, peacefully, and 
legally to obtain their law, and only after having been 
outrageously betrayed by corrupt public servants, the 
miners as a last resort, on the 3d of July, 1903, declared a 
strike to secure through their own efforts what a decade 
of pleading and prayers had failed to achieve. — 

I suppose no unbiased observer would to-day question 
that the political machines of Colorado had sold them- 
selves body and soul to the mine owners. There can 
surely be no other explanation for their violation of i 
their pledges to the people and to the miners. An,d_- 
further evidence of their perfidy was given on the night 
of September 3, 1903, at a conference between some of 
the State officials and certain officers of the Mine Own- 
ers' Association. Although the strike up to this time 
had been conducted without any violence, the State of- 
ficials agreed that the mine owners could have the aid 
of the militia, provided they would pay the expenses of 
the soldiers while they remained in the strike district. 
Two days later over one thousand men were encamped in 
Cripple Creek. All the strike districts were at once put 
under martial law ; the duly elected officials of the people 


were commanded to resign from office ; hundreds of un- 
offending citizens were arrested and thrown into "bull 
pens"; the whole working force of a newspaper was 
apprehended and taken to the "bull pen"; all the news 
that went out concerning the strike was censored, the 
manager of one of the mines acting as official censor. 
At the same time this man, together with other mine 
managers and friends, organized mobs to terrorize union 
miners and to force out of town anyone whom they 
thought to be in sympathy with the strikers. 

In the effort to determine whether the courts or the 
military powers were supreme, a writ of habeas corpus 
was obtained for four men who had been sent by the 
military authorities to the "bull pen." The court sent 
an order to produce the men. Ninety cavalrymen were 
then sent to the court house. They surrounded it, per- 
mitting no person to pass through the lines unless he was 
an officer of the court, a member of the bar, a county 
official, or a press representative. A company of in- 
fantrymen then escorted the four prisoners to the court, 
while fourteen soldiers with loaded guns and fixed bay- 
onets guarded the prisoners until the court was called to 
order. When the court was adjourned, after an argu- 
ment upon the motion to quash the return of the writ, 
the soldiers took the prisoners back to the "bull pen." 
The next day Judge Seeds was forced to adjourn the 
court, because the prisoners were not present. An officer 
of the militia was ordered to have them in court at two 
o'clock in the afternoon, but, as they did not appear at 
that time, a continuance was granted until the following 
day. On September 23 a large number of soldiers, cav- 
alry and infantry, surrounded the court house. A Gatling 
gun was placed in position nearby, and a detail of sharp- 
shooters was stationed where they could command the 


streets. The court, in the face of this military display, 
cited the Constitution of Colorado, which declares that 
the military shall always be in strict subordination to the 
civil power, and pointed out that this did not specify 
sometimes but always, declaring: "There could be no 
plainer statement that the military should never be per- 
mitted to rise superior to the civil power within the limits 
of Colorado." (38) The judge then ordered the military 
authorities to release the prisoners, but this they refused 
to do. __ 

At Victor certain mine owners commanded the sheriff 
to come to their club rooms, where his resignation was 
demanded. When he refused to resign, guns were pro- 
duced, a coiled rope was dangled before him, and on 
the outside several shots were fired. He was told that 
unless he resigned the mob outside the building would 
be admitted and he would be taken out and hanged. He 
then signed a written resignation, and a member of the 
Mine Owners' Association was appointed sheriff. With , 
this new sheriff in charge, the mine owners, mine man- 
agers, and all they could employ for the purpose arrested 
on all hands everybody that seemed unfriendly to their 
anarchy. The new sheriff and a militia officer com-- 
manded the Portland mine, which was then having no 
trouble with its employees, to shut down. By this order 
four hundred and seventy-five men were thrown out of 
employment. In these various ways the mobs organized 
by the mine owners were allowed to obliterate the Gov- 
ernment and abolish republican institutions, under the 
immediate protection of their leased military forces. 

At Telluride, also, the military overpowered the civil 
authorities. When Judge Theron Stevens came there to 
hold the regular session of court he was met by soldiers 
and a mob of three hundred persons. Seeing that it 


was impossible for the civil authorities to exercise any 
power, he decided to adjourn the court until the next 
term, declaring: "The demonstration at the depot last 
night upon the arrival of the train could only have been 
planned and executed for the purpose of showing the 
contempt of the militia and a certain portion of this com- 
munity for the civil authority of the State and the civil 
authority of this district. I had always been led to sup- 
pose from such research as I have been able to make 
that in a republic like ours the people were supreme; 
that the people had expressed their will in a constitution 
which was enacted for the government of all in authority 
in this State. That constitution provides that the mili- 
tary shall always be in strict subordination to the civiU 
authorities." (39) ' ] 

While this terrorism of the powerful was in full swayi 
in Colorado, the entire world was being told through 1 
the newspapers of the infamous crimes being com- 
mitted daily by the Western Federation of Miners. 
Countless newspaper stories were sent out telling in de- 
tail of mines blown up, of trains wrecked, of men mur- ; 
dered through agents of this federation of toilers en- 
gaged day in and day out at a dangerous occupation in 
the bowels of the earth. Not loafers, idlers, or drunk"^ 
ards, but men with calloused hands and bent backs. Sto- 
ries were sent around the world of these laborers being 
arraigned in court charged with the most infamous and 
dastardly crimes. Yet hardly once has it been reported in 
the press of the world that in "every trial that has been 
held in the State of Colorado during the present strike 
where the membership has been charged with almost 
every perfidy in the catalogue of crime, a jury has 
brought in a verdict of acquittal." (40) On the other 
hand, a multitude of murders, wrecks, and dynamite 


explosions have been brought to the door of the detectives 
employed by the Mine Owners' Association. It was 
found that many ex-convicts and other desperate charac- 
ters were employed by the detective agencies to commit 
crimes that could be laid upon the working miners. 
The story of Orchard and the recital of his atrocious 
crimes have occupied columns of every newspaper, but 
the fact is rarely mentioned that many of the crimes that 
he committed, and which the world to-day attributes to 
the officials of the Western Federation of Miners, were 
paid for by detective agencies. The special detective of 
one of the railroads and a detective of the Mine Owners' 
Association were known to have employed Orchard and 
other criminals. When Orchard first went to Denver to 
seek work from the officials of the Western Federation of 
Miners he was given a railroad pass by these detectives 
and the money to pay his expenses. (41) During the 
three months preceding the blowing up of the Independ- 
ence depot Orchard had been seen at least eighteen or 
twenty times entering at night by stealth the rooms of 
a detective attached to the Mine Owners' Association, 
and at least seven meetings were held between him and 
the railroad detective already mentioned. 

Previous to all this — in September and in November, 
1903 — attempts were made to wreck trains. A delinquent 
member of the Western Federation of Miners was_ 
charged with these crimes. He involved in his confes- 
sion several prominent members of the Western Federa- 
tion of Miners. On cross-examination he testified that 
he had formerly been a prize-fighter and that he had 
come to Cripple Creek under an assumed name. He 
further testified that $250 was his price for wrecking 
a train carrying two hundred to three hundred people, 
but that he had asked $500 for this job, as another man 


would have to work with him. Two detectives had 
promised him that amount. An associate of this man 
was discovered to have been a detective who had later 
joined the Western Federation of Miners. He testified 
that he had kept the detective agencies informed as to 
the progress of the plot to derail the train. The detect 
tive of the Mine Owners' Association admitted that he 
and the other detectives had endeavored to induce mem- 
bers of the miners' union to enter into the plot; while 
the railroad detective testified that he and another de- '\ 
tective were standing only a few feet away when men 
were at work pulling the spikes from the rails. An 
engineer on the Florence and Cripple Creek Railroad \ 
testified that the railroad detective had, a few days before, 
asked him where there was a good place for wrecking 
the train. The result of the case was that all were ac- 
quitted except the ex-prize-fighter, who was held for a 
time, but eventually released on $300 bond, furnished by 
representatives of 'the mine owners. (42) 

On June 6, 1904, when about twenty-five non-union 
miners were waiting at the Independence depot for a 
train, there was a terrible explosion which resulted in 
great loss of life. It has never been discovered who 
committed the crime, though the mine owners lost no 
time in attributing the explosion to the work of "the 
assassins" of the Federation of Miners. When, how- 
ever, bloodhounds were put on the trail, they went di- 
rectly to the home of one of the detectives in the employ 
of the Mine Owners' Association. They were taken back 
to the scene of the disaster and again followed the trail 
to the same place. A third attempt was made with the 
hounds and they followed a trail to the powder maga- 
zine of a nearby mine. The Western Federation of 
Miners offered a reward of $5,000 for evidence which 


would lead to the arrest and conviction of the criminal 
who had perpetrated the outrage at Independence. Un- 
fortunately, the criminal was never found. Orchard, a 
year or so later, confessed that he had committed the 
crime and was paid for it by the officials of the Western 
Federation of Miners. The absurdity of that statement 
becomes clear when it is known that the court in Denver 
was at the very moment of the explosion deciding the 
habeas corpus case of Moyer, President of the Western 
Federation of Miners. In fact, a few hours after the 
explosion the decision of the court was handed down. 
As the action of the court was vital not only to Moyer but 
to the entire trade-union movement, and, indeed, to re- 
publican institutions, it is inconceivable that he or his 
friends should have organized an outrage that would 
certainly have prejudiced the court at the very moment 
it was writing its decision. On the other hand, there 
was every reason why the mine owners should have 
profited by such an outrage and that their detectives 
should have planned one for that moment.* 

The atrocities of the Congo occurred in a country with- 
out law, in the interest of a great property, and in a series 
of battles with a half -savage people. History has some- 
what accustomed us to such barbarity; but when, in a 
civilized country, with a written constitution, with duly 
established courts, with popularly elected representatives, 
and apparently with all the necessary machinery for 

* The Supreme Court sustained the action of the military au- 
thorities, Chief Justice William H. Gabbert, Associate Justice 
John Campbell, concurring, Associate Justice Robert W. Steele 
dissenting. The dissenting opinion of Justice Steele deserves a 
wider reading than it has received, and no doubt it will rank 
among the most important statements that have been made 
against the anarchy of the powerful and the tyranny of class 
government. See Report, U. S. Bureau of Labor, 1905, p. 243. 


dealing out equal justice, one suddenly sees a feudal 
despotism arise, as if by magic, to usurp the political, 
judicial, and military powers of a great state, and to 
use them to arrest hundreds without warrant and throw 
them into "bull pens"; to drive hundreds of others out 
of their homes and at the point of the bayonet out of the 
state ; to force others to labor against their will or to be 
beaten; to depose the duly elected officials of the com- 
munity ; to insult the courts ; to destroy the property of 
those who protest; and even to murder those who show 
signs of revolt — one stands aghast. It makes one won- 
der just how far in reality we are removed from bar- 
barism. Is it possible that the likelihood of the workers 
achieving an eight-hour day — which was all that was 
wanted in Colorado — could lead to civil war? Yet that 
is what might and perhaps should have happened in 
Colorado in 1904, when, for a few months, a military 
despotism took from the people there all that had been 
won by centuries of democratic striving and thrust them 
back into the Middle Ages. 

Chaotic political and industrial conditions are, of 
course, occasionally inevitable in modern society — ^torn 
as it is by the very bitter struggle going on constantly 
between capital and labor. When this struggle breaks 
into war, as it often does, we are bound to suffer some 
of the evils that invariably attend war. Certainly, it is 
to be expected that the owners of property will exercise 
every power they possess to safeguard their property. 
They will, whenever possible, use the State and all its 
coercive powers in order to retain their mastery over men 
and things. The only question is this, must people in 
general continue to be the victims of a commerce which 
has for its purpose the creation of situations that force 
nearly every industrial dispute to become a bloody con- 


flict? When men combine to commit depredations, de- 
stroy property, and murder individuals, society must deal 
with them — no matter how harshly. But it is an alto- 
gether diiierent matter to permit privately paid criminals 
to create whenever desired a state of anarchy, in order 
to force the military to carry out ferocious measures of 
repression against those who have been in no wise 
responsible for disorder. 

If we will look into this matter a little, we shall dis- 
cover certain sinister motives back of this work of the 
detective agencies. It is well enough understood by them 
that violence creates a state of reaction. One very keen 
observer has pointed out that "the anarchist tactics are 
so serviceable to the reactionaries that, whenever a dra- 
conic, reactionary law is required, they themselves manu- 
facture an anarchist plot or attempted crime." (43) Kro- 
potkin himself, in telling the story of "The Terror in 
Russia," points out that a certain Azeff, who for six- 
teen years was an agent of the Russian police, was also 
the chief organizer of acts of terrorism among the social 
revolutionists. (44) Every conceivable crime was com- 
mitted under his direct instigation, including even the 
murder of some officials and nobles. The purpose of 
the work of this police agent was, of course, to serve the 
Russian reactionaries and to furnish them a pretext and 
excuse for the most bloody measures of repression. In 
America "hireling assassins," ex-convicts, and thugs in 
the employ of detective agencies commit very much the 
same crimes for the same purpose. And the men on 
strike, who have neither planned nor dreamed of plan- 
ning an outrage, suddenly find themslves faced by the 
military forces, who have not infrequently in the past 
shot them down. That the lawless situations which make 
these infamous acts possible, and to the general public 


often excusable, are the deliberate work of mercenaries, 
is, to my mind, open to no question whatever. 

Anyone who cares to look up the history of the labor 
movement for the last hundred years will find that in 
every great strike private detectives and police agents 
have been at work provoking violence. It is almost in- 
credible what a large number of criminal operations can 
be traced to these paid agents. From 1815 to the pres- 
ent day the bitterness of nearly every industrial conflict 
of importance has been intensified by the work of these 
spies, thugs, and provocateurs. "It was not until we 
became infested by spies, incendiaries, and their dupes — 
distracting, misleading, and betraying — ^that physical force 
was mentioned among us," says Bamford, speaking of 
the trade-union activity of 1815-1816. "After that our 
moral power waned, and what we gained by the accession 
of demagogues we lost by their criminal violence and 
the estrangement of real friends." (45) Some of the 
notable police agents that appear in the history of labor 
are Powell, Mitchell, Legg, Stieber, Greif, Fleury, Baron 
von Ungern-Sternberg, Schroeder-Brennwald, Krueger, 
Kaufmann, Peukert, Haupt, Von Ehrenberg, Friedeman, 
Weiss, Schmidt, and Ihring-Mahlow. In addition we 
find Andre, Andrieux, Pourbaix, Melville, and scores 
of other high police officials directing the work of these 
agents. In America, McPartland, Schaack, and Orchard 
— to mention the most notorious only — have played in- 
famous roles in provoking others, or in undertaking them- 
selves, to commit outrages. There were and are, of 
course, thousands of others besides those mentioned, 
but these are historic characters, who planned and exe- 
cuted the most dastardly deeds in order to discredit the 
trade-union and socialist movements. The space here is 
too limited to go into the historic details of this com- 



merce in violence. But he who is curious to pursue the 
study further will find a list of references at the end of 
the volume directing him to some of the sources of in- 
formation. (46) He will there discover an appalling rec^ 
ord of crime, for, as Thomas Beet points out, hardly a 
strike occurs where these special officers are not sent to 
make trouble. There are sometimes thousands of them 
at work, and, if one undertook to go into the various 
trials that have arisen as a result of labor disputes, one 
could prepare a long list of murders committed by these 
"hireling assassins." 

The pecuniary interest of the detective agencies in 
provoking crime is immense. It is obvious enough, if 
one will but think of it, that these detective agencies 
depend for their profit on the existence, the extension^-, 
and the promotion of criminal operations. The more that 
people are frightened by the prospect of danger to their 
property or menace to their lives, the more they seek 
the aid of detectives. Nothing proves so advantageous to 
detectives as epidemics of strikes and even of robberies 
and murders. The heyday of their prosperity comes in 
that moment when assaults upon men and property are 
most frequent. Nothing would seem to be clearer, then, 
than that it is to the interest of these agencies to create 
alarm, to arouse terror, and, through these means, to 
enlarge their patronage. When a trade or profession has 
not only every pecuniary incentive to create trouble, but 
when it is also largely promoted by notorious criminals 
and other vicious elements, the amount of mischief that is 
certain to result from the combination may well exceed 
the powers of imagination. 

And it must not be forgotten that this trade has de- 
veloped into a great and growing business, actuated by 
exactly the same economic interests as any other business. 


With the agencies making so much per day for each man 
employed, the way to improve business is to get more 
men employed. Rumors of trouble or actual deeds, such 
as an explosion of dynamite or an assault, help to make 
the detective indispensable to the employer. It is with 
an eye to business, therefore, that the private detective 
creates trouble. It is with a keen sense of his own mate- 
rial interest that he keeps the employer in a state of 
anxiety regarding what may be expected from the men. 
And, naturally enough, the modern employer, unlike a 
trained ruler such as Bismarck, never seems to realize that 
most of the alarming reports sent him are masses of lies. 
Nothing appears to have been clearer to the Iron Chancel- 
lor than that his own police forces, in order to gain 
favor, "lie and exaggerate in the most shameful man- 
ner." (47) But such an idea seems never to enter the 
minds of the great American employers, who, although 
becoming more and more like the ruling classes of Eu- 
rope, are not yet so wise. However, the great employer, 
like the great ruler, is unable now to meet his employees 
in person and to find out their real views. Consequently, 
he must depend upon paid agents to report to him the 
views of his men. This might all be very well if the re- 
turns were true. But, when it happens that evil reports 
are very much to the pecuniary advantage of the man 
who makes them^ is it likely that there will be any other 
kind of report? Thousands of employers, therefore, are 
coming more and more to be convinced that their work- 
men spend most of their time plotting against them. It 
seems unreasonable that sane men could believe that their 
employees, who are regularly at work every day striving 
with might and main to support and bring up decently 
their families, should be at the same time planning the 
most diabolical outrages. Nothing is rarer than to find 


criminals among workingmen, for if they were given to 
crime they would not be at work. But with the great 
modern evil — the separation of the classes — there comes 
so much of misunderstanding and of mistrust that the 
employer seems only too willing to believe any paid villain 
who tells him that his tired and worn laborers have mur- 
der in their hearts. The class struggle is a terrible fact ; 
but the class hatred and the personal enmity that are 
growing among both masters and men in the United 
States are natural and inevitable results of this system of 
spies and informers. 

How widespread this evil has become is shown by the 
fact that nearly every large corporation now employs 
numerous spies, informers, and special officers, from 
whom they receive daily reports concerning the conver- 
sations among their men and the plans of the unions. 
Thousands of these detectives are, in fact, members of 
the unions. The employers are, of course, under the im- 
pression that they are thus protecting themselves from 
misinformation and also from the possibility of injury, 
but, as we have seen, they are in reality placing them- 
selves at the mercy of these spies in the same manner 
as every despot in the past has placed himself at 
the mercy of those who brought him information. 
It may, perhaps, be possible that the Carnegie Company 
in 1892, the railroads in 1894, and the mine owners in 
1904 were convinced that their employees were under the 
influence of dangerous men. Very likely they were told 
that their workmen were planning assaults upon their 
lives and property. It would not be strange if these large 
owners of property had been so informed. Indeed, the 
economics of this whole wretched commerce" becomes 
clear only when we realize that the terror that results 
from such reports leads these capitalists to employ more 


and more hirelings, to pay them larger and larger fees, 
and in this manner to reward lies and to make even as- 
saults prove immensely profitable to the detectives. So 
it happens that the great employers are chiefly responsible 
for introducing among their men the very elements that 
are making for riot, crime, and anarchy. 

Close and intimate relations with the employers and 
with the men during several fiercely fought industrial 
conflicts have convinced me that the struggle between 
them rarely degenerates to that plane of barbarism in 
which either the men or the masters deliberately resort 
to, or encourage, murder, arson, and similar crimes. 
So far as the men are concerned, they have every reason 
in the world to discourage violence, and nothing is clearer 
to most of them than the solemn fact that every time 
property is destroyed, or men injured, the employers 
win public support, the aid of the press, the pulpit, the 
police, the courts, and all the powers of the State. Men 
do not knowingly injure themselves or persist in a course 
adverse to their material interests. It is true, as I think 
I have made clear in the previous chapters, that some of 
the workers do advocate violence, and, in a few cases 
that instantly became notorious, labor leaders have been 
found guilty of serious crimes. That these instances are 
comparatively rare is explained, of course, by the fact 
that violence is known invariably to injure the cause of 
the worker. It would be strange, therefore, if the work- 
ers did systematically plan outrages. On the other hand, 
it would be strange if the employers did not at times 
rejoice that somebody — the workmen, the detectives, or 
others — had committed some outrage and thus brought 
the public sentiment and the State's power to the aid of 
the employers. One cannot escape the thought that the 
employers would hardly finance so readily these so-called 


detectives, and inquire so little into their actual deeds, if 
they were not convinced that violence at the time of a 
strike materially aids the employer. Yet, despite evi- 
dence to the contrary, it may, I think, be said with truth 
that the lawlessness attending strikes is not, as a rule, 
the result of deliberate planning on the part of the men 
or of the masters. 

There are, of course, numerous exceptions, and if we 
find the McNamaras on the one side, we also find some un- 
scrupulous employers on the other. To the latter, violence 
becomes of the greatest service, in that it enables them 
to say with apparent truth that they are not fighting 
reasonable, law-abiding workmen, but assassins and incen- 
diaries. No course is easier for the employer who does 
not seek to deal honestly with his men, and none more 
secure for that employer whose position is wholly inde- 
fensible on the subject of hours and wages, than to side- 
track all these issues by hypocritically declaring that he 
refuses to deal with men who are led by criminals. And 
it is quite beyond question that some such employers 
have deliberately urged their "detectives" to create 
trouble. Positive evidence is at hand that a few such 
employers have themselves directed the work of incen- 
diaries, thugs, and rioters. With such amazing evidence 
as we have recently had concerning the systematically • 
lawless work of the Manufacturers' Association, it is 
impossible to free the employers of all personal responsi- 
bility for the outrages committed by their criminal agent^ 
There are many different ways in which violence benefi^ 
the employer, and it may even be said that in all cases itl 
is only to the interest of the employer. As a matter of] 
fact, with the systems of insurance now existing, any 
injury to the property of the employer means no loss to 
him whatever. The only possible loss that he can suffer 


is through the prolongation and success of the strike. 
If the workers can be discredited and the strike broken 
through the aid of violence, the ordinary employer is 
not likely to make too rigid an investigation into whether 
or not his "detectives" had a hand in it. 

C Curiously enough, the general public never dreams that 
ecial officers are responsible for most of the violence 
at times of strike, and, while the men loudly accuse the 
employers, the employers loudly accuse the men. THe 
employers are, of course, informed by the detectives that 
the outrages have been committed by the strikers, ana 
the detectives have seen to it that the employers are 
prepared to believe that the strikers are capable of any- 
thing. On the other hand, the men are convinced th4t 
the employers are personally responsible. They see hun- 
dreds and sometimes thousands of special officers swarm- 
ing throughout the district. They know that these men 
are paid by somebody, and they are convinced that their 
bullying, insulting talk and actions represent the personal 
wishes of the employers. When they knock down strik- 
ers, beat them up, arrest them, or even shoot them, the 
men believe that all these acts are dictated by the em- 
ployers. It is utterly impossible to describe the bitterness 
that is aroused among the men by the presence of these 
thugs. And the testimony taken by various commissions 
regarding strikes proves clearly enough that strikes are 
not only embittered but prolonged by the presence of 
detectives. Again and again, mediators have declared 
that, as soon as thugs are brought into the conflict, the 
settlement of a strike is made impossible until either the 
employers or the men are exhausted by the struggle. A 
number of reputable detectives have testified that 
the chief object of those who engage in "strike-breaking" 
is to prolong strikes in order to keep themselves employed 


as long as possible. Thus, the employers as well as the 
men are the victims of this commerce in violence. 

It will, I am sure, be obvious to the reader that it 
would require a very large volume to deal with all the 
various phases of the work of the detective in the 
numerous great strikes that have occurred in recent years. 
I have endeavored merely to mention a few instances 
where their activities have led to the breaking down of 
all civil government. It is important, however, to em- 
phasize the fact that there is no strike of any magnitude 
in which these hirelings are not employed. I have taken 
the following quotation as typical of numerous circulars 
which I have seen, that have been issued by detective 
agencies : "This bureau has made a specialty of handling 
strikes for over half a century, and our clients are among 
the largest corporations in the world. During the recent 
trouble between the steamboat companies and the striking 
longshoremen in New York City this office . . . sup- 
plied one thousand guards. . . . Our charges for 
guards, motormen, conductors, and all classes of men 
during the time of trouble is $5.00 per day, your com- 
pany to pay transportation, board, and lodge the men." 
(48) Here is another agency that has been engaged 
in this business for half a century, and there are thou- 
sands of others engaged in it now. One of them is 
known to have in its employ constantly five thousand men. 
And, if we look into the deeds of these great armies of 
mercenaries, we find that there is not a state in the 
Union in which they have not committed assault, arsQn, 
robbery, and murder. Several years ago at Lattimer^ 
Pennsylvania, a perfectly peaceable parade of two hun-i 
dred and fifty miners was attacked by guards armed with 
Winchester rifles, with the result that twenty-nine work- 
ers were killed and thirty others seriously injured. This . 


was deliberate and unprovoked slaughter. Recently, in 
the Westmoreland mining district, no less than twenty 
striking miners have been murdered, while several hun- 
dred have been seriously injured. On one occasion depu- 
ties and strike-breakers became intoxicated and "shot jjp 
the town" of Latrobe. In the recent strike against the 
Lake Carriers' Association six union men were killed by 
private detectives. In Tampa, Florida, in Columbus, 
Ohio, in Birmingham, Alabama, in Lawrence, Massachu- 
setts, in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, in the mining districts 
of West Virginia, and in innumerable other places many 
workingmen have been murdered, not by officers of the 
law, but by privately paid assassins. 

Even while writing these lines I notice a telegram to 
the Appeal to Reason from Adolph Germer, an official 
of the United Mine Workers of America, that some 
thugs, formerly in West Virginia, are now in Colorado, 
and that their first work there was to shoot down in 
cold blood a well-known miner. John Walker, a district" 
president of the United Mine Workers of America, tele- 
graphs the same day to the labor press that two of the 
strikers in the copper mines in Michigan were shot down 
by detectives, in the effort, he says, to provoke the men 
to violence. Anyone who cares to follow the labor press 
for but a short period will be astonished to find how 
frequently such outrages occur, and he will marvel that 
men can be so self-controlled as the strikers usually are 
under such' terrible provocation. I mention hastily these 
facts in order to emphasize the point that the cases in 
which I have gone into detail in this chapter are more 
or less typical of the bloody character of many of the 
great strikes because of the deeds of the so-called de- 

Brief, however, as this statement is of the work of these 



anarchists "without phrase" and of the great commerce 
raejUiave built up, it must, nevertheless, convince anyone 
that republican institutions cannot long exist in a country 
which tolerates such an extensive private commerce in 
lawlessness and crime. Government by law cannot pre- 
vail in the same field with a widespread and profitable 
traffic in disorder, thuggery, arson, and murder. Here is 
a whole brood of mercenaries, the output of hundreds of 
great penitentiaries, that has been organized and syste- 
matized into a great commerce to serve the rich and 
powerful. Here is a whole mess of infamy developed 
into a great private enterprise that militates against all 
law and order. It has already brought the United States 
on more than one occasion to the verge of civil war. 
And, despite the fact that numerous judges have publicly 
condemned the work of these agencies, and that various 
governmental commissions have deprecated in the most 
solemn words this traffic in crime, it continues to grow 
and prosper in the most alarming manner. Certainly, no 
student of history will doubt that, if this commerce is 
permitted to continue, it will not be long until no man's 
life, honor, or property will be secure. And it is a ques- 
tion, even at this moment, whether the legislators have 
the courage to attack this powerful American Mafia that 
has already developed into a "vested interest." > 

As I said at the beginning, no other country has this 
form of anarchy to contend with. In all countries, no 
doubt, there are associations of criminals, and every- 
where, perhaps, it is possible for wealthy men to employ 
criminals to work for them. But even the Mafia, the 
Camorra, and the Black Hand do not exist for the pur- 
pose of collecting and organizing mercenaries to serve the 
rich and powerful. Nor anywhere else in the world are 
these ■ criminals made special officers, deputy sheriflfs, 



V deputy marshals, and thus given the authority of the 
State itself. The assumption is so general that the State 
; invariably stands behind the private detective that few 
seem to question it, and even the courts frequently recog- 
nize them as quasi-public officials. Thus, the State itself 
aids and abets these mercenary anarchists, while it sends 
to the gallows idealist anarchists, such as Henry, Vaillant, 
Lingg, and their like. That the State fosters this "infant 
industry" is the only possible explanation for the fact 
that in every industrial conflict of the past the real pro- 
vokers and executors of arson, riot, and murder have 
escaped prison, while in every case labor leaders have 
been put in jail — often without warrant — and in many 
cases kept there for many months without trial. Even 
the writ of habeas corpus has been denied them re- 
j peatedly. Without the active connivance of the State 
such conditions could not exist. However, the State goes 
even further in its opposition to labor. The power of a 
state governor to call out the militia, to declare even a 
peaceful district in a state of insurrection, and to abolish 
the writ of habeas corpus is a very great power indeed 
and one that is unquestionably an anomaly in a re- 
public. If that power were used with equal justice, it 
might not create the intense bitterness that has been so 
frequently aroused among the workers by its exercise, 
^gain and again it has been used in the interest of capital, 
but there is not one single case in all the records where 
this extraordinary prerogative has been exercised to pro- 
tect the interest of the workers. It is not, then, either 
unreasonable or unjustifiable that among workmen the 
sentiment is almost unanimous that the State stands in- 
variably against them. The three instances which I have 
dealt with here at some length prove conclusively that 
" there is now no penalty inflicted upon the capitalist who 


hires thugs to invade a community and shoot down its 
citizens, or upon those who hire him these assassins, or 
upon the assassins themselves. Nor are the powerful 
punished when they collect a great army of criminals, 
drunkards, and hoodlums and make them officials of the 
United States to insult and bully decent citizens. Nor 
does there seem to be any punishment inflicted upon 
those who manage to transform the Government itself 
into a shield to protect toughs and criminals in their as- 
saults upon men and property, when those assaults are in 
the interest of capital. Moreover, what could be more 
humiliating in a republic than the fact that a governor 
who has leased to his friends the military forces of an 
entire state should end his term of office unimpeached? 
'-^. These various phases of the class conflict reveal a 
distressing state of industrial and political anarchy, and 
there can be no question that, if continued, it has in it 
the power of making many McNamaras, if not Bakou- 
nins. It will be fortunate, indeed, if there do not arise 
new Johann Mosts, and if the United States escapes 
the general use in time of that terrible, secretive, 
and deadly weapon of sabotage. Sabotage is the 
arm of the slave or the coward, who dares neither 
to speak his views nor to fight an open fight. As 
someone has said, it may merely mean the kicking of 
the master's dog. Yet no one is so cruel as the weak and 
the cowardly. And should it ever come about that 
millions and millions of men have all other avenues closed 
to them, there is still left to them sabotage, assassination, 
and civil war. These can neither be outlawed nor even 
effectively guarded against if there are individuals 
enough who are disposed to wield them. And it is not 
by any means idle speculation that a country which can 
sit calmly by and face such evils as are perpetrated by 


this vast commerce in violence, by this class use of the 
State, and by such monstrous outrages as were com- 
mitted in Homestead, in Chicago, and in Colorado, will 
find one day its composure interrupted by a working class 
that has suffered more than human endurance can stand. 

The fact is that society — the big body of us — is now 
menaced by two sets of anarchists. There are those 
among the poor and the weak who preach arson, dyna- 
mite, and sabotage. They are the products of conditions 
such as existed in Colorado — as Bakounin was the prod- 
uct of the conditions in Russia. These, after all, are rela- 
tively few, and their power is almost nothing. They are 
listened to now, but not heeded, because there yet exist 
among the people faith in the ultimate victory of peace- 
able means and the hope that men and not property will 
one day rule the State. The other set of anarchists are 
those powerful, influential terrorists who talk hypocriti- 
cally of their devotion to the State, the law, the Consti- 
tution, and the courts, but who, when the slightest ob- 
stacle stands in the path of their greed, seize from their 
corrupt tools the reins of government, in order to rule 
society with the black-jack and the "bull pen." The 
idealist anarchist and even the more practical syndicalist, 
preaching openly and frankly that there is nothing left 
to the poor but war, are, after all, few in number and 
weak in action. Yet how many to-day despair of peace- 
able methods when they see all these outrages committed 
by mercenaries, protected and abetted by the official State, 
in the interest of the most sordid anarchism! 

As a matter of fact, the socialist is to-day almost alone, 
among those watching intently this industrial strife, in 
keeping buoyant his abiding faith in the ultimate victory 
of the people. He has fought successfully against Ba- 
kounin. He is overcoming the newest anarchists, and 


he is already measuring swords with the oldest anarchists. 
He is confident as to the issue. He has more than 
dreams ; he knows, and has all the comfort of that knowl- 
edge, that anarchy in government like anarchy in pro- 
duction is reaching the end of its rope. Outlawry for 
profit, as well as production for profit, are soon to be 
things of the past. The socialist feels himself a part 
of the growing power that is soon to rule society. He 
is conscious of being an agent of a world-wide move- 
ment that is massing into an irresistible human force 
millions upon millions of the disinherited. He has un- 
bounded faith that through that mass power industry 
will be socialized and the State democratized. No longer 
will its use be merely to serve and promote private enter- 
prise in foul tenements, in sweatshops, and in all the 
products that are necessary to life and to death. All 
these vast commercial enterprises that exist not to serve 
society but to enrich the rich — including even this sordid 
traffic in thuggery and in murder — are soon to pass into 
history as part of a terrible, culminating epoch in com- 
mercial, financial, and political anarchy. The socialist, 
who sees the root of all anti-social individualism in the 
predominance of private material interests over com- 
munal material interests, knows that the hour is arriving 
when the social instincts and the life interests of prac- 
tically all the people will be arrayed against anarchy in all 
its forms. Commerce in violence, like commerce in the 
necessaries of life, is but a part of a social regime that 
is disappearing, and, while most others in society seem 
to see only phases of this gigantic conflict between capital 
and labor, and, while most others look upon it as some- 
thing irremediable, the socialist, standing amidst millions 
upon millions of his comrades, is even now beginning to 
see visions of victory. 



We left the socialists, on September 30, 1890, in the 
midst of jubilation over the great victory they had just 
won in Germany. The Iron Chancellor, with all the 
power of State and society in his hands, had capitulated 
before the moral force and mass power of the German 
working class. And, when the sensational news went out 
to all countries that the German socialists had polled 
1,427,000 votes, the impulse given to the political organ- 
izations of the working class was immense. Once again 
the thought of labor throughout the world was centered 
upon those stirring words of Marx and Engels : "Work- 
ingmen of all countries. Unite !" First uttered by them 
in '47, repeated in '64, and pleaded for once again in '72, 
this call to unity began to appear in the nineties as the 
one supreme commandment of the labor movement. And, 
in truth, it is an epitome of all their teachings. It is 
the pith of their program and the marrow of their prin- 
ciples. Nearly all else can be waived. Other principles 
can be altered; other programs abandoned; other meth- 
ods revolutionized; but this principle, program, and 
method must not be tampered with. It is the one and 
only unalterable law. In unity, and in unity alone, is 
the power of salvation. And under the inspiration of this 
call more and more millions have come togethf rj^ until 
to-day, in every portion of the world, there are multit'uae^ 
affiliated to the one and only international army. In '47> 

337 \ 


it was not yet'born. In '64 efforts were made to bring it 
into being. In '72 it was broken into fragments. In '90 
it won its first battle — its right to exist. Now, twenty- 
three years later, nothing could be so eloquent and im- 
pressive as the figures themselves of the rising tide of 
international socialism. 


1887 1892 1897 1903 1913 

Germany 763,000 1,786,000 2,107,000 3,010,000 4,250,329 

France 47,000 440,000 790,000 805,000 1,125,877 

Austria 750,000 780,000 1,081,441 

United States. .. . 2,000 21,000 65,000 223,494 931,406 

Italy 26,000 135,000 300,000 825,280 

AustraUa 678,012 

Belgium 320,000 457,000 464,000 (a) 600,000 

Great Britain 55,000 100,000 373,645 

Finland 10,000 320,289 

Russia 200,000 

Sweden 723 10,000 170,299 

Norway 7,000 30,000 124,594 

Denmark 8,000 20,000 32,000 53,000 107,015 

Switzerland 2,000 39,000 40,000 70,000 105,000 

HoUand 1,500 13,000 38,000 82,494 

New Zealand 44,960 

Spain 5,000 14,000 23,000 40,725 

Bulgaria 25,565 

Argentina 54,000 

Chile 18,000 

Greece 26,000 

Canada 10,780 

Servia 9,000 

Luxembourg 4,000 

Portugal 3,308 

Roumania 2,057 

Total 823,500 2,657,723 4,455,000 5,916,494 11,214,076 

(a) The vote for Belgium is estimated. The Liberals and the 
Socialists combined at the last election in opposition to the Clericals, 
and together polled over 1,200,000 votes. The British Socialist 
Year Book, 1913, estimates the totaJ Socialist vote at about 600,000. 

The above table explains, in no small measure, the 
quiet patience and supreme confidence of the socialist. 


He looks upon that wonderful array of figures as the one 
most significant fact in the modern world. Within a 
quarter of a century his force has grown from 800,000 
to ii,ocx),ooo. And, while no other movement in his- 
tory has grown so rapidly and traversed the entire world 
with such speed, the socialist knows that even this table 
inadequately indicates his real power. For instance, in 
Great Britain the Labor Party has over one million 
dues-paying members, yet its vote is here placed at 373,- 
645. Owing to the peculiar political conditions existing in 
that country, it is almost impossible for the Labor 
Party to put up its candidates in all districts, and these 
figures include only that small proportion of workingmen 
who have been able to cast their votes for their own can- 
didates. The two hundred thousand socialist votes in 
Russia do not at all represent the sentiment in that coun- 
try. Everything there militates against the open expres- 
sion, and, indeed, the possibility of any expression, of 
the actual socialist sentiment. In addition, great masses 
of workingmen in many countries are still deprived of 
the suffrage, and in nearly all countries the wives of 
these men are deprived of the suffrage. Leaving, how- 
ever, all this aside, and taking the common reckoning of 
five persons to each voter, the socialist strength of the 
world to-day cannot be estimated at less than fifty mil- 
lion souls. 

Coming to the parliamentary strength of the socialists, 
we find the table on the following page illuminating. 

It appears that labor is in control of Australia, that 45 
per cent, of the Finnish Parliament is socialist, while in 
Sweden more than a third, and in Germany and Den- 
mark somewhat less than a third, is socialist. In several 
of the Northern countries of Europe the parliamentary 
position of the socialists is stronger than that of any 



Number of Seats Per 

in Lower House. Cent. 

Total Socialist. Socialist 

Australia 75 41 54.61 

Finland 200 90 45.00 

Sweden 165 64 38.79 

Denmark 114 32 28.07 

Germany 397 110 27.71 

Belgium 186 39 20.96 

Norway 123 23 18.70 

HoUand 100 17 17.00 

Austria 516 82 15.89 

Italy 508 78 15.35 

Luxembourg 53 7 13.21 

France 597 75 12.56 

Switzerland 170 15 8.82 

Great Britain 670 41 6.12 

Russia 442 16 3.62 

Greece 207 4 2.00 

Argentina 120 2 1.67 

Servia 160 1 .62 

Portugal 164 1 .61 

Bulgaria 189 1 .53 

~ " 404 1 .25 

Other single party. In addition to the representatives 
here listed, Belgium has seven senators, Denmark four, 
and Sweden twelve, while in the state legislatures Austria 
has thirty-one, Germany one hundred and eighty-five, and 
the United States twenty. Here again the strength of 
socialism is greatly understated. In the United States, 
for instance, the astonishing fact appears that, with a 
vote of nearly a million, the socialist party has not one 
representative in Congress. On the basis of proportional 
representation it would have at least twenty-five Con- 
gressmen ; and, if it were a sectional party, it could, with 
its million votes, control all the Southern states and elect 
every Congressman and Senator from those states. The 


socialists in the German Reichstag are numerous, but on 
a fair system of representation they would have two or 
three score more representatives than at present. How- 
ever, this, too, is of little consequence, and in no wise 
disturbs the thoughtful socialist. The immense progress 
of his cause completely satisfies him, and, if the rate 
of advance continues, it can be only a few years until a 
world victory is at hand. 

If, now, we turn from the political aspects of the labor 
movement to examine the growth of cooperatives and of 
trade unions, we find a progress no less striking. In 
actual membership the trade unions of twenty nations in 
191 1 had amassed over eleven million men and women. 
And the figures sent out by the international secretary 
do not include countries so strongly organized as Canada, 
New Zealand, and Australia. Unfortunately, it is im- 
possible to add here reliable figures regarding the wealth 
of the great and growing cooperative movement. In 
Britain, Germany, Belgium, France, Italy, and Switzer- 
land, as well as in the Northern countries of Central 
Europe, the cooperative movement has made enormous ' 
headway in recent years. The British cooperators, ac- 
cording to the report of the Federation of Cooperative 
Societies, had in 1912 a turnover amounting to over six 
hundred millions of dollars. They have over twenty- 
four hundred stores scattered throughout the cities of 
Great Britain. The Cooperative Productive Society and 
the Cooperative Wholesale Society produced goods in 
their own shops to a value of over sixty-five millions of 
dollars; while the goods produced by the Cooperative 
Provision Stores amounted to over forty million dollars. 
Seven hundred and sixty societies have Children's Penny 
Banks, with a total balance in hand of about eight mil- 
lion dollars. The members of these various cooperative 


societies number approximately three million.* Through- 
out all Europe, through cooperative effort, there have 
been erected hundreds of splendid "Houses of the Peo- 
ple," "Labor Temples," and similar places of meeting 
and recreation. The entire labor, socialist, and coopera- 
tive press, numbering many thousands of monthly and 
weekly journals, and hundreds of daily papers, is also 
usually owned cooperatively. Unfortunately, the statis- 
tics dealing with this phase of the labor movement have 
never been gathered with any idea of completeness, and 
there is little use in trying even to estimate the immense 
wealth that is now owned by these organizations of work- 
ingmen. ^ 

America lags somewhat behind the other countries, 
but nowhere else have such difficulties faced tl\e labor 
movement. With a working class made up of many races, 
nationalities, and creeds, trade-union organization is ex- 
cessively difficult. Moreover, where the railroads secretly 
rebate certain industries and help to destroy the competi- 
tors of those industries, and where the trusts exercise 
enormous power, a cooperative movement is well-nigh 
impossible. Furthermore, where vast numbers of the 
working class are still disfranchised, and where elections 
are notoriously corrupt and more or less under the con- 
trol of a hireling class of professional political manipula- 
tors, an independent political movement faces almost in- 
surmountable obstacles. Nor is this all. No other, 
country allows its ruling classes to employ private armies, 
thugs, and assassins ; and no other country makes such an 
effort to prevent the working classes from acting peace- , 
ably and legally. While nearly everywhere else the 
unions may strike, picket, and boycott, in America there 

♦Above data taken from International News Letter of Na- 
tional Trade Union Centers, Berlin, May 30, 1913. 



[are laws to prevent both picketing and boycotting, and 
even some forms of strikes. The most extraordinary 
despotic judicial powers are exercised to crush the unions, 
to break strikes, and to imprison union men. And, if 
paid professional armies of detectives deal with the 
unions, so paid professional armies of politicians deal 
with the socialists. By every form of debauchery, law- 
lessness, and corruption they are beaten back, and, al- 
though it is absolutely incredible, not a single representa- 
tive of a great party polling nearly a million votes sits 
in the Congress of the United States. 

Nevertheless, the American socialist and labor move- 
ment is making headway, and the day is not far distant 
when it will exercise the power its strength merits. Al- 
though somewhat more belated, the various elements of 
the working class are coming closer and closer together, 
and it cannot be long until there will be perfect harmony 
throughout the entire movement. In many other coun- 
tries this harmony already exists. The trade-union, co- 
operative, and socialist movements are so closely tied 
together that they move in every industrial, political, and 
commercial conflict in complete accord. So far as the 
immediate aims of labor are concerned, they may be 
said to be almost identical in all countries. Professor 
Werner Sombart, who for years has watched the world 
movement more carefully perhaps than anyone else, has 
pointed out that there is a strong tendency to uniformity 
in all countries — a "tendency," in his own words, "of 
the movement in all lands toward socialism." (i) In- 
deed, nothing so much astonishes careful observers of 
the labor movement as the extraordinary rapidity with 
which the whole world of labor is becoming unified, in 
its program of principles, in its form of organization, 
and in its methods of action. The books of Marx and 


Engels are now translated into every important language 
and are read with eagerness in all parts of the world. 
The Communist Manifesto of 1847 is issued by the 
socialist parties of all countries as the text-book of the 
movement. Indeed, it is not uncommon nowadays to see 
a socialist book translated immediately into all the chief 
languages and circulated by millions of copies. And, if 
one will take up the political programs of the party 
in the twenty chief nations of the world, he will find them 
reading almost word for word alike. For these various 
reasons no informed person to-day questions the claims 
of the socialist as to the international, wojld-wide char- 
acter of the movement. 

Perhaps there is no experience quite like that of the 
socialist who attends one of the great periodical gather- 
ings of the international movement. He sees there a 
thousand or more delegates, with credentials from organi- 
zations numbering approximately ten million adherents. 
They come from all parts of the world — from mills, 
mines, factories, and fields — ^to meet together, and, in 
the recent congresses, to pass in utmost harmony their 
resolutions in opposition to the existing regime and their 
suggestions for remedial action. Not only the countries 
of Western Europe, but Russia, Japan, China, and the 
South American Republics send their representatives, and, 
although the delegates speak as many as thirty different 
languages, they manage to assemble in a common meeting, 
and, with hardly a dissenting voice, transact their busi- 
ness. When we consider all the jealousy, rivalry, and 
hatred that have been whipped up for hundreds of years 
among the peoples of the various nations, races, and 
creeds, these international congresses of workingmen be- 
come in themselves one of the greatest achievements of 
modern times. 


Although Marx was, as I think I have made clear, and 
still is, the guiding spirit of modern socialism, the huge 
structure of the present labor movement has not been 
erected by any great architect who saw it all in ad- 
vance, nor has any great leader molded its varied and 
wonderful lines. It is the work of a multitude, who have 
quarreled among themselves at every stage of its build- 
ing. They differed as to the purpose of the structure, as 
to the materials to be used, and, indeed, upon every de- 
tail, big and little, that has had to do with it. At times 
all building has been stopped in order that the different 
views might be harmonized or the quarrels fought to a 
finish. Again and again portions have been built only to 
be torn down and thrown aside. Some have seen more 
clearly than others the work to be done, and one, at least, 
of the architects must be recognized as a kind of prophet 
who, in the main, outlined the structure. But the archi- 
tects were not the builders, and among the multitude en- 
gaged in that work there have been years of quarrels and 
decades of strife. The story of terrorism, as told, is 
that of a group who had no conception of the structure to 
be erected. They were a band of dissidents, without 
patience to build. They and their kind have never been 
absent from the labor movement, and, in fact, for nearly 
one hundred years a battle has raged in one form or 
another between those few of the workers who were 
urging, with passionate fire, what they called "action" 
and that multitude of others who day and night were 
laying stone upon stone. 

No individual — in fact, nothing but a force as strong 
and compelling as a natural law — could have brought 
into existence such a vast solidarity as now exists in the > 
world of labor. Like food and drink, the organization 
of labor satisfies an inherent necessity. The workers 


crave its protection, seek its guidance, and possess a 
sense of security only when supported by its solidarity. 
Only something as intuitively impelling as the desire for 
life could have called forth the labor and love and sacri- 
fice that have been lavishly expended in the dishearten- 
ing and incredibly tedious work of labor organization. 
The upbuilding of the labor movement has seemed at 
times like constructing a house of cards: often it was 
hardly begun before some ill wind cast it down. It has 
cost many of its creators exile, imprisonment, starvation, 
and death. With one mighty assault its opponents have 
often razed to the ground the work of years. Yet, as 
soon as the eyes of its destroyers were turned, a multi- 
tude of loving hands and broken hearts set to work to 
patch up its scattered fragments and build it anew. The 
labor movement is unconquerable. 

Unlike many other aggregations, associations, and 
benevolent orders, unlike the Church, to which it is fre- 
quently compared, the labor movement is not a purely 
voluntary union. No doubt there is a camaraderie in 
that movement, and unquestionably the warmest spirit of 
fellowship often prevails, but the really effective cause 
for working-class unity is economic necessity. The work- 
ers have been driven together. The unions subsist not 
because of leaders and agitators, but because of the com- 
pelling economic interests of their members. They are 
efforts to allay the deadly strife among workers, as or- 
ganizations of capital are efforts to allay the deadly strife 
among capitalists. The cooperative movement has grown 
into a vast commerce wholly because it served the self- 
interest of the workers. The trade unions have grown 
big in all countries because of the protection they offer 
and the insurance they provide against low wages, long 
hours, and poverty. The socialist parties have grown 


great because they express the highest social aspirations 
of the workers and their antagonism toward the present 
regime. Moreover, they offer an opportunity to put for- 
ward, in the most authoritative places, the demands of 
the workers for political, social, and economic reform. 
The whole is a struggle for democracy, both political and 
industrial, that is by no means founded merely on whim 
or caprice. It has gradually become a religion, an im- 
perative religion, of millions of workingmen and women. 
Chiefly because of their economic subjection, they are 
striving in the most heroic manner to make their voice 
heard in those places where the rules of the game of life 
are decided. Thus, every phase of the labor movement 
has arisen in response to actual material needs. 

And, if the labor movement has arisen in response to 
actual material needs, it is now a very great and material 
actuality. The workingmen of the world are, as we 
have seen, uniting at a pace so rapid as to be almost 
unbelievable. There are to-day not only great national 
organizations of labor in nearly every country, but these 
national movements are bound closely together into one 
unified international power. The great world-wide move- 
ment of labor, which Marx and Engels prophesied would 
come, is now here. And, if they were living to-day, they 
could not but be astonished at the real and mighty mani- 
festation of their early dreams. To be sure, Engels lived 
long enough to be jubilant over the massing of labor's 
forces, but Marx saw little of it, and even the German 
socialists, who started out so brilliantly, were at the time 
of his death fighting desperately for existence under the 
anti-socialist law. Indeed, in 1883, the year of his death, 
the labor movement was still torn by quarrels and dissen- 
sions over problems of tactics, and in America, France, 
and Austria the terrorists were more active than at any 


time in their history. It was still a question whether the 
German movement could survive, while in the other coun- 
tries the socialists were still little more than sects. That 
was just thirty years ago, while to-day, as we have seen, 
over ten millions of workingmen, scattered throughout 
the entire world, fight every one of their battles on the 
lines laid down by Marx. The tactics and principles he 
outlined are now theirs. The unity of the workers he 
pleaded for is rapidly being achieved throughout the en- 
tire world, and everywhere these armies are marching 
toward the goal made clear by his life and labor. "Al- 
though I have seen him to-night," writes Engels to Lieb- 
knecht, March 14, 1883, "stretched out on his bed, the 
face rigid in death, I cannot grasp the thought that this 
genius should have ceased to fertilize with his powerful 
thoughts the proletarian movement of both worlds. 
Whatever we all are, we are through him ; and whatever 
the movement of to-day is, it is through his theoretical 
and practical work ; without him we should still be stuck 
in the mire of confusion." (2) 

What was this mire? If we will cast our eyes back 
to the middle of last century we cannot but realize that 
the ideas of the world have undergone a complete revolu- 
tion. When Marx began his work with the labor move- 
ment there was absolute ignorance among both masters 
and men concerning the nature of capitalism. It was a 
great and terrible enigma which no one understood. 
The working class itself was broken up into innumerable 
guerilla bands fighting hopelessly, aimlessly, with the most 
antiquated and ineffectual weapons. They were in mis- 
ery ; but why, they knew not. They left their work to riot 
for days and weeks, without aim and without purpose. 
They were bitter and sullen. They smashed machines 
and burned factories, chiefly because they were totally 


ignorant of the causes of their misery or of the nature 
of their real antagonist. Not seldom in those days there 
were meetings of hundreds of thousands of laborers, and 
not infrequently mysterious epidemics of fires and of ma- 
chine-breaking occurred throughout all the factory dis- 
tricts. Again and again the soldiers were brought out 
to massacre the laborers. In all England — then the most 
advanced industrially — there were few who understood 
capitalism, and among masters or men there was hardly 
one who knew the real source of all the immense, intoler- 
able economic evils. 

The class struggle was there, and it was being fought 
more furiously and violently than ever before or since. 
The most striking rebels of the time were those that 
Marx called the "bourgeois democrats." They were for- 
ever preaching open and violent revolution. They were 
dreaming of the glorious day when, amid insurrection 
and riot, they should stand at the barricades, fighting the 
battle for freedom. In their little circles they "were lay- 
ing plans for the overthrow of the world and intoxicating 
themselves day by day, evening by evening, with the 
hasheesh-drink of: 'To-morrow it will start;' " (3) Be- 
fore and after the revolutionary period of '48 there were 
innumerable thousands of these fugitives, exiles, and men 
of action obsessed with the dream that a great revolu- 
tionary cataclysm was soon to occur which would lay in 
ruins the old society. That a crisis was impending every- 
one believed, including even Marx and Engels. _ In fact, 
for over twenty years, from 1847 to 1871, the "extempor- 
izers of revolutions" fretfully awaited the supreme hour. 
Toward the end of the period appeared Bakounin and 
Nechayeff with their robber worship, conspiratory secret 
societies, and international network of revolutionists. 
Wherever capitalism made headway the workers grew 


more and more rebellious, but neither they nor those who 
sought to lead them, and often did, in fact, lead them, 
had much of any program beyond destruction. Bakou- 
nin was not far wrong, at the time, in thinking that he 
was "spreading among the masses ideas corresponding 
to the instincts of the masses," (4) when he advocated 
the destruction of the Government, the Church, the mills, 
the factories, and the palaces, to the end that "not a stone 
should be left upon a stone." 

This was the mire of confusion that Engels speaks of. 
There was not one with any program at all adequate to 
meet the problem. The aim of the rebels went little be- 
yond retaliation and destruction. What were the weapons 
employed by the warriors of this period ? Street riots and 
barricades were those of the "bourgeois democrats"; 
strikes, machine-breaking, and incendiarism were those of 
the workers; and later the terrorists came with their 
robber worship and Propaganda of the Deed. In the 
midst of this veritable passion for destruction Marx and 
Engels found themselves. Here was a period when direct 
action was supreme. There was nothing else, and no 
one dreamed of anything else. The enemies of the exist- 
ing order were employing exactly the same means and 
methods used by the upholders of that order. Among 
the workers, for instance, the only weapons used were 
general strikes, boycotts, and what is now called sabotage. 
These were wholly imitative and retaliative. It is clear 
that the strike is, after all, only an inverted lockout; 
and as early as 1833 ^ general strike was parried by a 
general lockout. The boycott is identical with the black- 
list. The employer boycotts union leaders and union 
men. The employees boycott the non-union products of 
the employer; while sabotage, the most ancient weapon 
of labor, answers poor pay with poor work, and broken 


machines for broken lives. And, if the working class 
was striking back with the same weapons that were being 
used against it, so, too, were the "pan-destroyers," ex 
cept that for the most part their weapons were incredibly 
inadequate and ridiculous. Sticks and stones and barri- 
cades were their method of combating rifles and trained 
armies. All this again is more evidence of the mire of 

However, if the weapons of the rebellious were utterly 
futile and ineffectual, there were no others, for every 
move the workers or their friends made was considered 
lawless. All political and trades associations were against 
the law. Peaceable assembly was sedition. Strikes were 
treason. Picketing was intimidation ; and the boycott was 
conspiracy in restraint of trade. Such associations as 
existed were forced to become secret societies, and, even 
if a working-class newspaper appeared, it was almost im- 
mediately suppressed. And, if all forms of trade-union 
activity were criminal, political activity was impossible 
where the vast majority of toilers had no votes. With 
methods mainly imitative, retaliative, and revengeful; 
with no program of what was wanted ; in total ignorance 
of the causes of their misery; and with little appreciation 
that in unity there is strength, the workers and their 
friends, in the middle of the last century, were stuck in 
the mire — of ignorance, helplessness, and confusion. 

This was the world in which Marx and Engels began 
their labor. Direct action was at its zenith, and the 
struggle of the classes was ferocious. Indeed, all Europe 
was soon to see barricades in every city, and thrones and 
governments tumbling into apparent ruin. Yet in the 
midst of all this wild confusion, and even touching el- 
bows with the leaders of these revolutionary storms, 
Marx and Engels outlined in clear, simple, and powerful 



language the nature of capitalism — what it was, how it 
came into being, and what it was yet destined to be- 
come. They pointed out that it was not individual em- 
ployers or individual statesmen or the Government or 
even kings and princes who were responsible for the evils 
of society, but that unemployment, misery, and oppres- 
sion were due to an economic system, and that so long 
as capitalism existed the mass of humanity would be sunk 
in poverty. They called attention to the long evolutionary 
processes that had been necessary to change the .entire 
world from a state of feudalism into a state of capitalism; 
and how it was not due to man's will-power that the 
great industrial revolution occurred, but to the growth of 
machines, of steam, and of electrical power; and that it 
was these that have made the modern world, with its 
intense and terrible contrasts of riches and of poverty. 
They also pointed out that little individual owners of 
property were giving way to joint-stock companies, and 
that these would in turn give way to even greater aggre- 
gations of capital. An economic law was driving the 
big capitalists to eat up the little capitalists. It was 
forcing them to take from the workers their hand tools 
and to drive them out of their home workshops ; it was 
forcing them also to take from the small property owners 
their little properties and to appropriate the wealth of the 
world into their own hands. As a result of this eco- 
nomic process, "private property," they said, "is already 
done away with for nine-tenths of the population." (s) 
But they also pointed out that capitalism had within itself 
the seeds of its own dissolution, that it was creating 
a new class, made up of the overwhelming majority, that 
was destined in time to overthrow capitaUsm. "What the 
bourgeoisie therefore produces, above all, are its own 
grave diggers." (6) In the interest of society the nine- 


tenths would force the one-tenth to yield up its private 
property, that is to say, its "power to subjugate the labor 
of others." (7) 

Taking their stand on this careful analysis of historic 
progress and of economic evolution, they viewed with 
contempt the older fighting methods of the revolutionists, 
and turned their vials of satire and wrath upon Her- 
wegh, Willich, Schapper, Kinkel, Ledru-Rollin, Bakou- 
nin, and all kinds and species of revolution-makers. 
They deplored incendiarism, machine destruction, and all 
the purely retaliative acts of the laborers. They even 
ridiculed the general strike.* And, while for thirty years 
they assailed anarchists, terrorists, and direct-actionists, 
they never lost an opportunity to impress upon the work- 
ers of Europe the only possible method of effectually 
combating capitalism. There must first be unity — world- 
wide, international unity — among all the forces of labor. 
And, secondly, all the energies of a united labor move- 
ment must be centered upon the all-important contest 
for control of political power. They fought incessantly 
with their pens to bring home the great truth that 
every class struggle is a political struggle; and, while 
they were working to emphasize that fact, they began in 
1864 actually to organize the workers of Europe to fight 
that struggle. The first great practical vvork of the In- 
ternational was to get votes for workingmen. It* was 
the chief thought and labor of Marx during the first 

*"The general strike," Engels said, "is in Bakounin's pro- 
gram the lever which must be applied in order to inaugurate the 
social revolution. . . . The proposition is far from being 
new; some French socialists, and, after them, some Belgian 
socialists have since 1848 shown a partiality for riding this 
beast of parade." This appeared in a series of articles written 
for Der Volksstaaf in 1873 and republished in the pamphlet 
"Bakunisten an der Arbeit." 


years of that organization to win for the English workers 
the suffrage, while in Germany all his followers — includ- 
ing Lassalle as well as Bebel and Liebknecht — labored 
throughout the sixties to that end. Up to the present the 
main work of the socialist movement throughout the 
world has been to fight for, and its main achievement to - 
obtain, the legal weapons essential for its battles. 

Let us try to grasp the immensity of the task actually 
executed by Marx. First, consider his scientific work. 
During all the period of these many battles every leisure 
moment was spent in study. While others were engaged 
in organizing what they were pleased to call the "Revolu- 
tion" and waiting about for it to start, Marx, Engels, 
Liebknecht, and all this group were spending innumerable 
hours in the library. We see the result of that labor in 
the three great volumes of "Capital,'^ in many pamphlets, 
and in other writings. By this painstaking scientific work 
of Marx the nature of capitalism was made known and, 
consequently, what it was that should be combated, and 
how the battle should be waged. In addition to these 
studies, which have been of such priceless value to the 
labor and socialist movements of the world, Marx, by his 
pitiless logic and incessant warfare, destroyed every revo- 
lution-maker, and then, by an act of surgery that many 
declared would prove fatal, cut out of the labor move- 
merit the "pan-destroyers." Once more, by a supreme 
effort, he turned the thought of labor throughout the 
world to the one end and aim of winning its political 
weapons, of organizing its political armies, and of uniting 
the working classes of all lands. Here, then, is a brief 
summary of the work of this genius, who fertilized with 
his powerful thoughts the proletarian movements of both 
worlds. The most wonderful thing of all is that, in his 
brief lifetime, he should not only have planned this gigan- 


tic task, but that he should have obtained the essentials 
for its complete accomplishment. 

And, as we look out upon the world to-day, we find 
it actually a different world, almost a new world. The 
present-day conflict between capital and labor has no 
more the character of the guerilla warfare of half a 
century ago. It is now a struggle between immense 
organizations of capital and immense organizations of 
labor. And not only has there been a revolution in ideas 
concerning the natufe of capitalism but there has been 
as a consequence a revolution in the methods of combat 
between labor and capital. While all the earlier and 
more brutal forms of warfare are still used, the conflict 
as a whole is to-day conducted on a different plane. 
The struggle of the classes is no longer a vague, unde- 
fined, and embittered battle. It is no longer merely a 
contest between the violent of both classes. It is now 
a deliberate, and largely legal, tug-of-war between two 
great social categories over the ends of a social revolution 
that both are beginning to recognize as inevitable. The 
representative workers to-day understand capitalism, and 
labor now faces capital with a program, clear, comprehen- 
sive, world-changing; with an international army of so 
many millions that it is almost past contending with; 
while its tactics and methods of action can neither be 
assailed nor effectively combated. From one end of the 
earth to the other we see capital with its gigantic asso- 
ciations of bankers, merchants, manufacturers, mine own- 
ers, and mill owners striving to forward and to protect 
its economic interests. On the other hand, we see labor 
with its millions upon millions of organized men all but 
united and solidified under the flag of international 

And, most strange and wondrous of all — ^as a result of 


the logic of things and of the logic of Marx — the actual 
positions of the two classes have been completely trans- 
posed. Marx persuaded the workers to take up a weapon 
which they alone can use. Like Siegfried, they have 
taken the fragments of a sword and welded them into 
a mighty weapon — so mighty, indeed, that the working 
class alone, with its innumerable millions, is capable of, 
wielding it. The workers are the only class in society 
with the numerical strength to become the majority and 
the only class which, by unity and organization, can ent 
ploy the suffrage effectively. While fifty years ago the 
workers had every legal and peaceable means denied- 
them, to-day they are the only class which can assuredly 
profit through legal and peaceable means. It is obvious 
that the beneficiaries of special privilege can hope to re- 
tain their power only so long as the working class is' 
divided and too ignorant to recognize its own interests. 
As soon as its eyes open, the privileged classes must lose 
its political support and, with that political support, every- 
thing else. That is absolutely inevitable. The interests 
of mass and class are too fundamentally opposed to per- 
mit of permanent political harmony. ^— ^ 
Nobody sees this more clearly than the intelligent capi- 
talist. As the workers become more and more conscious 
of their collective power and more and more convinced 
that through solidarity they can quietly take possession 
of the world, their opponents become increasingly con- 
scious of their growing weakness, and already in Europe 
there is developing a kind of upper-class syndicalism, that 
despairs of Parliaments, deplores the bungling work of 
politics, and ridicules the general incompetence of demo- 
cratic institutions. At the same time, however, they 
exercise stupendous efforts, in the most devious and 
questionable ways, to retain their political power. Facing 


the inevitable, and realizing that potentially at least the 
suffrages of the immense majority stand over them as a 
menace, they are beginning to seek other methods of 
action. Of course, in all the more democratic countries 
the power of democracy has already made itself felt, and 
in America, at any rate, the powerful have long had re- 
sort to bribery, corruption, and all sorts of political con- 
spiracy in order to retain their power. Much as we may 
deplore the debauchery of public servants, it nevertheless 
yields us a certain degree of satisfaction, in that it is elo- 
quent testimony of this agreeable fact, that the oldest 
anarchists are losing their control over the State. They 
hold their sway over it more and more feebly, and even 
when the State is entirely obedient to their will, it is 
not infrequently because they have temporarily purchased 
that power. When the manufacturers, the trusts, and the 
beneficiaries of special privilege generally are forced pe- 
riodically to go out and purchase the State from the 
Robin Hoods of politics, when they are compelled to 
finance lavishly every political campaign, and then ab- 
jectly go to the very men whom their money has put 
into power and buy them again, their bleeding misery 
becomes an object of pity. 

This really amounts to an almost absolute transposition 
of the classes. In the early nineties Engels saw the 
beginning of this change, and, in what Sombart rightly 
says tnay be looked upon as a kind of "political last will 
and testament" to the movement, Engels writes: "The 
time for small minorities to place themselves at the head 
of the ignorant masses and resort to force in order to 
bring about revolutions is gone. A complete change in 
the organization of society can be brought about only by 
the conscious cooperation of the masses; they must be 
alive to the aim in view; they must know what they 


want. The history of the last fifty years has taught 
that. But, if the masses are to understand the line of 
action that is necessary, we must work hard and con- 
tinuously to bring it home to them. That, indeed, is 
what we are now engaged upon, and our success is 
driving our opponents to despair. The irony of destiny 
is turning everything topsy-turvy. We, the 'revolution- 
aries,' are profiting more by lawful than by unlawful and 
revolutionary means. The parties of order, as they call 
themselves, are being slowly destroyed by their own 
weapons. Their cry is that of Odilon Barrot: 'Lawful 
means are killing us.' . . . We, on the contrary, are 
thriving on them, our muscles are strong, and our cheeks 
are red, and we look as though we intend to live for- 
ever!" (8) 

And if lawful means are killing them, so are science 
and democracy. We no longer live in an age when any 
suggestion of change is deemed a sacrilege. The period 
has gone by when political, social, and industrial institu- 
tions are supposed to be unalterable. No one believes 
them fashioned by Divinity, and there is nothing so sacred 
in the worldly affairs of men that it cannot be ques- 
tioned. There is no law, or judicial decision, or decree, 
or form of property, or social status that cannot be criti- 
cally examined; and, if men can agree, none is so firmly 
established that it cannot be changed. It is agreed that 
men shall be allowed to speak, write, and propagate their 
views on all questions, whether religious, political, or 
industrial. In theory, at least, all authority, law, admin- 
istrative institutions, and property relations are decided 
ultimately in the court of the people. Through their 
press these things may be discussed. On their platform 
these things may be approved or denounced. In their 
assemblies there is freedom to make any declaration 


for or against things as they are. And through their 
votes and representatives there is not one institution that 
cannot be molded, changed, or even abolished. Upon 
this theory modern society is held together. It is a belief 
so firmly rooted in the popular mind that, although every- 
thing goes against the people, they peacefully submit. 
So firmly established, indeed, is this tradition that even 
the most irate admit that where wrong exists the chief 
fault lies with the people themselves. 

Whatever may be said concerning its limitations and 
its perversions, this, then, is an age of democracy, 
founded upon a widespread faith in majority rule. 
Whether it be true or not, the conviction is almost uni- 
versal that the majority can, through its political power, 
accomplish any and every change, no matter how revo- 
lutionary. Our whole Western civilization has had bred 
into it the belief that those who are dissatisfied with 
things as they are can agitate to change them, are even 
free to organize for the purpose of changing them, and 
can, in fact, change them whenever the majority is won 
over to stand with them. This, again, is the theory, al- 
though there is no one of us, of course, but will admit 
that a thousand ways are found to defeat the will of 
the majority. There are bribery, fraudulent elections, and 
an infinite variety of corrupting methods. There is the 
control of parliaments, of courts, and of political parties 
by special privilege. There are oppressive and unjust 
laws obtained through trickery. There is the over- 
whelming power exercised by the wealthy through their 
control of the press and of nearly all means of enlight- 
enment. Through their power and the means they have 
to corrupt, the majority is indeed so constantly deceived 
that, when one dwells only on this side of our political 
life, it is easy to arrive at the conviction that democracy 


is a myth and that, in fact, the end may never come of 
this power of the few to divert and pervert the institu- 
tions for expressing the popular will. 

But there is no way of achieving democracy in any 
form except through democracy, and we have found that 
he who rejects political action finds himself irresistibly 
drawn into the use of means that are both indefensible 
and abortive. Curiously enough, in this use of methods, 
as in other ways, extremes meet. Both the despot and 
the terrorist are anti-democrats. Neither the anarchist 
of Bakounin's type nor the anarchist of the Wall Street 
type trusts the people. With their cliques and inner 
circles plotting their conspiracies, they are forced to travel 
the same subterranean passages. The one through cor- 
ruption impresses the will of the wealthy and powerful 
upon the community. The other hopes that by some dash 
upon authority a spirited, daring, and reckless minority 
can overturn existing society and establish a new socjal 
order. The method of the political boss, the aristocrat, 
the self-seeker, the monopolist — even in the use of thugs, 
private armies, spies, and provocateurs — differs little 
from the methods proposed by Bakounin in his Alliance. 
And it is not in the least strange that much of the law- 
lessness and violence of the last half-century has had its 
origin in these two sources. In all the unutterably des-^ 
picable work of detective agencies and police spies that 
has led to the destruction of property, to riots and minor 
rebellions that have cost the lives of many thousands in 
recent decades, we find the sordid materialism of special 
privilege seeking to gain its secret ends. In all the un- 
utterably tragic work of the terrorists that has cost so 
many lives we find the rage and despair of self-styled 
revolutionists seeking to gain their secret ends. After 
all, it matters little whether the aim of a group of' con- 


\spirators is purely selfish or wholly altruistic. It matters 
mtle whether their program is to build into a system 
private monopoly or to save the world from that monop- 
oly. Their methods outrage democracy, even when they, 
are not actually criminal. The oldest anarchist believes 
that the people must be deceived into a worse social 
order, and that at least is a tribute to their intelligence. 
On the other hand, the Bakouninists, old and new, believe 
that the people must be deceived into a better social 
order, and that is founded upon their complete distrust 1 
of the people. 

And, rightly enough, the attitude of the masses toward 
the secret and conspiratory methods of both the idealist 
anarchist and the materialist anarchist is the same. If 
the latter distrust the people, the people no less distrust 
them. If the masses would mob the terrorist who springs 
forth to commit some fearful act, the purpose of which 
they cannot in the least understand, they would, if 
possible, also mob the individual responsible for manipu- 
lation of elections, for the buying of legislatures, and for 
the purchasing of court decisions. They fear, distrust, 
and denounce the terrorist who goes forth to commit ar- 
son, pillage, or assassination no less than the anarchist 
who purchases private armies, hires thugs to beat up 
unoffending citizens, and uses the power of wealth to 
undermine the Government. In one sense, the acts of 
the materialist anarchist are clearer even than those of 
the other. The people know the ends sought by the 
powerful. On the other hand, the ends sought by the 
terrorist are wholly mysterious; he has not even taken 
the trouble to make his program clear. We find, then, 
that the anarchist of high finance, who would suppress 
democracy in the interest of a new feudalism, and 
the anarchist of a sect, who would override democracy 


in the hope of communism, are classed together in the 
popular mind. The man who in this day deifies the in- 
dividual or the sect, and would make the rights of the 
individual or the sect override the rights of the many, 
is battling vainly against the supreme current of the 

Democracy may be a myth. Yet of all the faiths of 
our time none is more firmly grounded, none more 
warmly cherished. If any man refuses to abide by the 
decisions of democracy and takes his case out of that 
court, he ranges against himself practically the entire 
populace. On the other hand, the man who takes his 
case to that court is often forced to suffer for a long 
time humiliating defeats. If the case be a new one but 
little understood, there is no place where a hearing seems 
so hard to win as in exactly that court. Universal suf- 
frage, by which such cases are decided, appears to the 
man with a new idea as an obstacle almost overwhelming. 
He must set out on a long and dreary road of education 
and of organization; he must take his case before a 
jury made up of untold millions; he must wait maybe 
for centuries to obtain a majority. To go into this great 
open court and plead an entirely new cause requires a 
courage that is sublime and convictions that have the 
intensity of a religion. One who possesses any doubt 
cannot begin a task so gigantic, and certainly one who, 
for any reason, distrusts the people cannot, of course, put 
his case in that court. It was with full realization of 
the difficulties, of the certainty of repeated defeats, and 
of the overwhelming power against them that the social- 
ists entered this great arena to fight their battle. Univer- 
sal suffrage is a merciless thing. How often has it served 
the purpose of stripping the socialist naked and exposing 
him to a terrible humiliation! Again and again, in the 


history of the last fifty years, have the socialists, after 
tremendous agitation, gigantic mass meetings, and wide- 
spread social unrest, marched their followers to the polls 
with results positively pitiful. A dozen votes out of 
thousands have in more cases than one marked their 
relative power. There is no other example in the world 
of such faith, courage, and persistence in politics as that 
of the socialists, who, despite defeat after defeat, humilia- 
tion after humiliation, have never lost hope, but on every 
occasion, in every part of the modern world, have gone 
up again and again to be knocked down by that jury. 
And let it be said to their credit that never once any-' 
where have the socialists despaired of democracy. "So- 
cialism and democracy . . . belong to each other, 
round out each other, and can never stand in contradic- 
tion to each other. Socialism without democracy is 
pseudo-socialism, just as democracy zvithout socialism is 
pseudo-democracy. The democratic state is the only pos- 
sible form of a socialised society." (9) The insepag- 
bleness of democracy and socialism has served the or- 
ganized movement as an unerring guide at every moment 
of its struggle for existence and of its fight against the 
ruling powers. It has served to keep its soul free from 
that cynical distrust of the people which is evident in 
the writings of the anarchists and of the syndicalists — in 
Bakounin, Nechayeff, Sorel, Berth, and Pouget. It has 
also served to keep it from those emotional reactions 
which have led nearly every great leader of the direct- 
actionists in the last century to become in the end an 
apostate. Feargus O'Connor, Joseph Rayner Stephens, 
the fierce leaders of Chartism ; Bakounin, Blanc, Richard, 
Jaclard, Andrieux, Bastelica, the flaming revolutionists of 
the Alliance; Briand, Sorel, Berth, the leading propa- 
.gandists and philosophers of modern syndicalism ; every 


one of them turned in despair from the movement. Cob- 
den, Bonaparte, Clemenceau, the Empire, the "hew mon- 
archy," or a comfortable berth, claimed in the end every 
one of these impatient middle-class intellectuals, who 
never had any real understanding of the actual labor 
movement. And, if the union of democracy and social- 
ism has saved the movement from reactions such as 
these, it has also saved it from the desperation that gives 
birth to individual methods, such as the Propaganda of 
the Deed and sabotage. That is what the inseparableness 
of democracy and socialism has done for the movement 
in the past; and it has in it an even greater service yet 
to perform. It has the power of salvation for society 
itself in the not remote future, when it will be face to 
face, throughout the world, with an irresistible current 
toward State socialism. Industrial democracy and politi- 
cal democracy are indissolubly united ; their union cannot 
be sundered except at the cost of destruction to them 

In adopting, then, the methods of education, of organi-. 
zation, and of political action the socialists rest their case 
upon the decision of democracy. They accept the weap- 
ons that civilization has put into their hands, and they 
are testing the word of kings and of parliaments that 
democracy can, if it wishes, alter the bases of society. 
And in no small measure this is the secret of their im- 
mense strength and of their enormous growth. There 
is nothing strange in the fact that the socialists stand 
almost alone to-day faithful to democracy. It simply 
means that they believe in it even for themselves, that 
is to say, for the working class. They believe in it for 
industry as well as for politics, and, if they are at war 
with the political despot, they are also at war with the 
industrial despot. Everyone is a socialist and a demo- 


crat within his circle. No capitalist objects to a group 
of capitalists cooperatively owning a great railroad. The 
fashionable clubs of both city and country are almost 
perfect examples of group socialism. They are owned 
cooperatively and conducted for the benefit of all the 
members. Even some reformers are socialists in this 
measure — that they believe it would be well for the com- 
munity to own public utilities, provided skilled, trained, 
honorable men, like themselves, are permitted to conduct 
them. Indeed, the only democracy or socialism that is 
seriously combated is that which embraces the most 
numerous and most useful class in society, "the only class 
that is not a class"; (10) the only class so numerous 
that it "cannot effect its emancipation without delivering 
all society from its division into classes." (11) 

In any case, here it is, "the self-conscious, inde- 
pendent movement of the immense majority, in the inter- 
est of the immense majority," (12) already with its eleven 
million voters and its fifty million souls. It has slowly, 
patiently, painfully toiled up to a height where it is be- 
ginning to see visions of victory. It has faith in itself and 
in its cause. It believes it has the power of deliverance 
for all society and for all humanity. It does not ex- 
pect the powerful to have faith in it ; but, as Jesus came 
out of despised Nazareth, so the new world is coming 
out of the multitude, amid the toil and sweat and an- 
guish of the mills, mines, and factories of the world. It 
has endured much; suffered ages long of slavery and 
serfdom. From being mere animals of production, the 
workers have become the "hands" of production; and 
they are now reaching out to become the masters of 
production. And, while in other periods of the world 
their intolerable misery led them again and again to 
strike out in a kind of torrential anarchy that pulled 


down society itself, they have in our time, for the first 
time in the history of the world, patiently and persist- 
ently organized themselves into a world power. Where 
shall we find in all history another instance of the organi- 
zation in less thanhalf a century of eleven million people 
into a compact force for the avowed purpose of peace- 
fully and legally taking possession of the world? They 
have refused to hurry. They have declined all short cuts. 
They have spurned violence. The "bourgeois democrats," 
the terrorists, and the syndicalists, each in their time, have 
tried to point out a shorter, quicker path. The workers 
have refused to listen to them. On the other hand, 
they have declined the way of compromise, of fusions, 
and of alliances, that have also promised a quicker and 
a shorter road to power. With the most maddening pa- 
tience they have declined to take any other path than 
their own — ^thus infuriating not only the terrorists in their 
own ranks but those Greeks from the other side who 
came to them bearing gifts. Nothing seems to disturb 
them or to block their path. They are ofifered reforms 
and concessions, which they take blandly, but without 
thanks. They simply move on and on, with the terrible, 
incessant, irresistible power of some eternal, natural 
force. They have been fought; yet they have never lost 
a single great battle. They have been flattered and ca- 
joled, without ever once anywhere being appeased. They 
have been provoked, insulted, imprisoned, calumniated, 
and repressed. They are indifferent to it all. They 
simply move on and on — with the patience and the meek- 
ness of a people with the vision that they are soon to 
inherit the earth. 



(i) Macaulay, Critical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Essays: 
The Earl of Chatham, p. 3. 

(2) Bdkounin, CEuvres, Vol. Ill, p. 21. (P. V. Stock, Paris, 


(3) Idem, Vol. II, p. xiv. 

(4) Idem, Vol. II, p. xlvii. 

(5) L'Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste et I' Association In- 

ternationale des Travailleurs, p. 121. (Secret Statutes 
of the Alliance.) A. Darson, London, and Otto Meissner, 
Hamburg, 1873. 

(6) Idem, p. 125. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(7) Idem, p. 128. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(8) Idem, p. 11. (The Secret Alliance.) 

(9) Idem, p. 129. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(10) Bakounin, op. cit., Vol.' II, p. viii. 

(11) L'Alliance, etc., p. 95. 

(12) Bakounin, op. cit.. Vol. II, p. viii. 

(13) Idem, Vol. II, p. xxiii. 

(14) Quoted in L'Alliance, etc., p. 112. 
(is) Idem, p. 117. 

(16) L'Alliance, etc., p. 129. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(17) Idem, pp. 128-129. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(18) Idem, p. 132. (Secret Statutes of the Alliance.) 

(ig) Cf. Guillaume, L' Internationale; documents et souvenirs 
(1864-1878). Vol. I, p. 131. (fidouard Cornely et Cie., 
Paris, igos-1910.) 

(20) Cf. Idem, Vol. I, pp. 132-133. for entire program. 

(21) Bakounin, op. cit.. Vol. V, p. 53. 

(22) L'Alliance, etc., pp. 64-65. 

(23) Idem, p. 65 (quotations from The Principles of the Revo- 

lution) . 



(24) Idem, p. 66 (The Principles of the Revolution). 

(25) Idem, p. 68 (The Principles of the Revolution). 

(26) Idem, pp. 90-92. 

(27) Idem, pp. 93-94. 

(28) Idem, pp. 94-95. 

(29) Idem, p. 95. 

(30) Guillaume, op. cit. Vol. II, p. 60. 

(31) Idem, Vol. II, pp. 61-63. 

(32) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 312. 


(i) Guillaume, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 90. 

(2) Lefrangais, Memoires d'un revolutionnaire, p. 348 (Paris). 

(3) Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. II, p. 92 (Oscar Testut). 

(4) Idem, Vol. II, p. 92. 

(5) Idem, Vol. II, p. 93. 

(6) Idem, Vol. II, pp. 94-95. 

(7) Idem, Vol. II, p. 96. 

(8) Idem, Vol. II, p. 96. 

(9) Idem, Vol. II, p. 96. 

(10) Idem, Vol. II, p. 97. 

(11) Idem, Vol. II, p. 97. 

(12) Idem, Vol. II, p. 97. 

(13) Idem, Vol. II, pp. 98-99. 

(14) Idem, Vol. II, p. 98. 

(15) Quoted by Idem, Vol. II, p. loi. Cf. The Social Demo- 

crat, April IS, 1903. 

(16) L' Alliance, etc., p. 21. 

(17) Marx, The Commune of Paris (Bax's translation), p. 123. 

(Twentieth Century Press, Ltd., London, 1895.) 

(18) Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. Ill, p. 100. 

(19) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 98. 

(20) Bakunisten an der Arbeit, I, by Frederick Engels, printed 

in Der Volksstaat, October 31, 1873, No. 105. 

(21) Quoted by Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. Ill, p. 154. 

(22) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 100. 

(23) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 204. 

(24) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 207. 

(25) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 208. 


(26) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 186. 

(27) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 186. 

(28) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 146. 

(29) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 237. 


(i) Kropotkin, Memoirs of a Revolutionist, p. 394. (Hough- 
ton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, i8gg.) 

(2) Idem, p. 287. 

(3) Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. IV, pp. 113-114. 

(4) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 225. 

(5) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 225. 

(6) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 226. 

(7) Kropotkin, Paroles d'un revolte, pp. 285-288 (E. Flam- 

marion, Paris, 1885). 

(8) U Alliance, etc., p. 65 (The Principles of the Revolution). 

(9) Prolo, Les Anarchistes, pp. 14-15 (Marcel Riviere et Cie., 

Paris, 1912) ; or Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. IV, pp. 160-168. 

(10) Prolo, op. cit., pp. 15-17; or Guillaume, op. cit. Vol. IV, 

pp. 184-188. 

(11) Bebel, My Life, p. 330 (Chicago University Press, 1912). 

(12) Zenker, Anarchism: A Criticism and History of the An- 

archist Theory, p. 282 (G. P. Putnam's Sons, New 
York, 1901). 

(13) Idem, pp. 294-295. 

(14) Kropotkin, op. cit., pp. 448-449. 
, (is) Zenker, op. cit., p. 286. 


(i) Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. IV, p. 209. 

(2) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 227. 

(3) Quoted by Zenker, op. cit., pp. 235-236. 

(4) Zenker, op. cit., pp. 282-283. 

(5) Emma Goldman, Anarchism and Other Essays, p. 47 

(Mother Earth Publishing Co., New York, 1911). 

(6) Quoted in History of Socialism in the United States, p. 


219 -(Funk & Wagnalls, New York, 1910), by Morris 
Hillquit, who gives a fuller acount of this period. 

(7) Quoted by Ely, The Labor Movement in America, p. 362 

(Thomas Y. Crowell, New York, 3d ed., 1910). 

(8) Idem, p. 263. 

(9) The Chicago Martyrs, p. 30 (Free Society Publishing Co., 

San Francisco, 1899). 

(10) Reprinted in Instead of a Book, by Benjamin R. Tucker, 

pp. 429-432 (Benj. R. Tucker, New York, 1897). 

(11) Idem, p. 429. 

(12) Bebel, My Life, p. 237. 

(13) Alexander Berkman, Prison Memoirs of an Anarchist, 

p. 7 (Mother Earth Publishing Company, New York, 


(i) Quoted by Prolo, Les Anarchistes, p. 44. 

(2) Prolo, op. cit., p. 45. 

(3) Quoted from L'&clair by Prolo, op. cit., p. 46. 

(4) Quoted by Prolo, op. cit., p. 47. 

(5) Quoted by Idem, p. 47. 

(6) Quoted by Idem, p. 47. 

(7) Emma Goldman, Anarchism and Other Essays, p. lOl. 

(8) Idem, pp. gg-ioo. 

(9) Idem, pp. 102-103. 

(10) Prolo, op. cit.^-p. 52. 

(11) Idem, pp. 54-^5. 

(12) Pall Mall Gazette, April 29, 1912. 


(i) Emma Goldman, op. cit., p. 98. 

(2) Idem, p. 113. 

(3) Idem, pp. H3-114. 

(4) Percy Bysshe Shelley, Julian and Maddalo. 

(5) Idem. 

(6) Angiolillo, quoted by Goldman, op. cit., pp. 104-105. 


(7) Goldman, op. cit., p. 103. 

(8) The Chicago Martyrs, p. 30. 

(9) Alfred Tennyson, The Vision of Sin, IV. 

(10) Lombroso, Les Anarchist es, pp. 184, 181-183, ig6 (Flam- 

marion, Paris, 1896). 

(11) Idem, pp. 205-207. 

(12) Quoted by Lombroso, op. cit., p. 207. 

(13) Zenker, op. cit., pp. 306-307. 

(14) Bebel, Attentate und Sosialdemokratie, p. 6, a speech de- 

livered at Berlin, November 2, 1898 {Vorw'drts, Berlin, 
(is) The Chicago Martyrs, p. 130. 

(16) Idem, p. 16. 

(17) Idem, p. 62. 

(18) Max Stirner, The Ego and His Own, p. 477 (A. C. Fi- 

field, London, 1912). 

(19) Idem, p. 425. 

(20) Idem, p. 394. 

(21) Lombroso, Op. cit., pp. 52-54. 

(22) Marx and Engels, The Communist Manifesto, p. 29 (C. H. 

Kerr & Co., Chicago, 1906). 

(23) Reprinted in Guesde's Quatre ans de lutte des classes, pp. 

88-91 (G. Jacques et Cie., Paris, 1901). 

(24) Idem, 1). 92. 

(25) Bebel, Attentate und Sosialdemokratie, pp. 12-14. 

(26) Idem, p. I. 

(27) Goldman, Anarchism and Other Essays, pp. 92-93. 

(28) Idem, pp. 85-86. 

(29) This is a translation of an editorial that has appeared in 

various foreign newspapers and also, it is said, in the 
Illinois Staats-Zeitung ; Cf. De Leon, Socialism versus 
Anarchism, p. 61 (Nevir York Labor News Company, 
New York). 


(i) L' Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste, etc., p. 48. 

(2) George Brandes, Main Currents in Nineteenth Century 

Literature, Vol. VI (The Macmillan Company, New 

York, 1906). 


(3) Engels in the introduction to Revelations sur le Proces des 

Communistes, published together with, and under the 
title of, Marx's L'Allemagne en 1848, p. 268 (Schleicher 
Freres, Paris, 1901). 

(4) Idem, p. 268. 

(5) Idem, pp. 268-269. My italics. 
(■6) Idem, pp. 269-270. 

(7) Communist Manifesto, p. 12. 

(8) Idem, p. 44- 

(9) Idem, p. 15. 

(10) Idem, p. 25. 

(11) Idem, p. 25. 

(12) Idem, p. 26. 

(13) Idem, p. 30. 

(14) Idem, p. 44. 
(is) Idem, pp. 42, 46. 

(16) Engels, op. cit., p. 287. 

(17) Idem, p. 287. 

(18) Quoted by Engels in op. cit., p. 297. 

(19) Albion W. Small, Socialism in the Lightfcf Social Science, 

reprinted from the American lournal of Sociology, Vol. 
XVII, No. 6 (May, 1912), p. 810. 

(20) Communist Manifesto, pp. 12, 13. 

(21) Albion W. Small, article cited, p. 812. 

(22) Idem, p. 812. 

(23) Address and Provisional Rules of the International Work- 

ing Men's Association (London, 1864), p. 12. 

(24) Letter of Marx's of October 9, 1866, published in the Neue 

Zeit, April 12, 1902. 

(25) Address and Provisional Rules of the International Work- 

ing Men's Association (London, 1864), p. 9. 

(26) Idem, p. 9. 

(27) Idem, p. 10. 

(28) Idem, p. II. 

(29) Engels, op. cit., p. 287. 

(30) Ma.Tx, L'Allemagne en 1848, p. 188. 

(31) Letter of October 9, 1866, published in the Neue Zeit, April 

12, 1902. 

(32) Quoted by Jaeckh, The International, p. 32 (Twentieth 

Century Press, Ltd., London). 


(33) Nicolay and Hay, Complete Works of Abraham Lincoln, 

Vol. X, p. S3 (Francis D. Tandy Co., New York). My 

(34) Jaures, Studies in Socialism, p. 133 (G. P. Putnam's Sons, 

New York, 1906, translated by Mildred Minturn). 


(i) Bakounin, CEuvres, Vol. II, p. viii. 

(2) Idem, Vol. II, pp. xi-xii. 

(3) L'Allemagne en 1848, p. 279. 

(4) Liebknecht, Karl Marx: Biographical Memoirs, pp. 62-63 

(C. H. Kerr, Chicago, 1904). 

(5) Bakounin, op. cit., Vol. II, p. xvii. 

(6) Cf. Marx, Revolution and Counter-Revolution, p. 126 

(Scribner's, New York, 1896). 

(7) Bakounin, op. cit, Vol. II, p. xx. 

(8) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 383. 

(9) Guillaume, op. cit., Vol. I, p. 103. 

(10) Idem, Vol. I, p. 103. 

(11) Compte-Rendu of the Fourth International Congress of 

the International Working Men's Association, Basel, 
1869, pp. 6-7 (Bruxelles, 1869). 

(12) Idem, p. 7. 

(13) Guillaume, op. cit.. Vol. I, p. 202. 

(14) I am following here the English version, published by the 

General Council, pp. 26-27. 
(is) Compte-Rendu of the Fourth International Congress of 
the International Working Men's Association, pp. 85-86. 

(16) Idem, p. 89. 

(17) Idem, pp. 144-145- 

(18} Guillaume, op. cit. Vol. I, p. 204. 

(19) Quoted bf Bakounin, op. cit. Vol. V, p. 223. 

(20) Bakounin, op. cit.. Vol. V, p. 232. 

(21) Idem, Vol. V, p. 233. 

(22) Idem, Vol. V, pp. 234-235. 

(23) Idem, Vol. I, pp. xxxii-xxxiii. 

(24) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 62. 

(25) Communist Manifesto, p. 44. 


(26) Engels, Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, pp. 69-70 (Scrib- 

ner's. New York, 1892). 

(27) Idem, pp. 71-72. Italics mine. 

(28) Idem, p. 86. 

(29) Idem, pp. 86-87. 

(30) Idem, pp. 76-77- 

(31) Compte-Rendu of the Fourth International Congress of 

the International Working Men's Association, p. 86. 

(32) Bakounin, op. cit. Vol. IV, pp. 31-32. 

(33) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 32. 

(34) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 32- 

(35) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 37- 

(36) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 39. 

(37) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 40. 

(38) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 59- 

(39) Idem, Vol. IV, pp. 191-192. 

(40) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 3i- 

(41) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 40. 

(42) Idem, Vol. Ill, p. 72. 

(43) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 415. 

(44) Idem, Vol. VI, p. 38. 

(45) Idem, Vol. VI, pp. 38-39. 

(46) Idem, Vol. IV, pp. 438-439- 

(47) Idem, Vol. VI, p. 75. 

(48) Engels, Landmarks of Scientific Socialism, p. 190 (Kerr, 

Chicago, 1907). 

(49) Idem, p. 186. 
(so) Idem, pp. 184-185. 

(51) Idem, p. igo. My italics. 

(52) Resolutions of the Conference of Delegates of the In- 

ternational Working Men's Association, Assembled at 
London from the 17th to the 23d of September, 1871, 
No. IX (London, 1871). 


(1) L'Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste, etc., p. 12. 

(2) Bakounin, CEwvres, Vol. IV, p. 342. 

(3) Cf. Compte-Rendu OfUciel of the Geneva Congress, 1873, 
p. SI (Locle, 1873). 


(4) Idem, pp. 55-56. 

(5) Idem, p. 86. 

(6) Idem, p. 87. 

(7) Idem, p. 85. 

(8) Idem, p. 35. 

(9) Guillaume, op. cit., Vol. Ill, p. 118. 

(10) Plechanoff, Anarchism and Socialism, p. 84 (The Twen- 

tieth Century Press, Ltd., London, 1906; trans, by Elea- 
nor Marx Aveling). 

(11) Guillaume, op. cit, Vol. IV, pp. 114-115. 

(12) Idem, Vol. IV, p. 115. 

(13) Idem, Vol. IV, pp. 223-224. 

(14) Dawson, German Socialism and Ferdinand Lassalle, p. 169, 

(Scribner's Sons, New York, 1899). 

(15) Ferdinand Lassalle, Reden und Schriften, Vol. II, pp. 543- 
544 (Vorwdrts, Berlin, 1893). 

(16) Idem, Vol. II, p. 383. 

(17) Idem, Vol. II, p. 22. 

(18) Idem, Vol. II, p. 104. 

(19) Quoted by Dawson, op. cit., p. 187. 

(20) Idem, p. 168; Cf. also, Bernstein, Ferdinand Lassalle as 

a Social Reformer, pp. 167-170 (Scribner's Sons, New 
York, 1893). 

(21) Quoted by Dawson, .op. cit., p. 168. 

(22) Quoted by Milhaud, La Democratie socialiste allemande, 
p. 32 (Felix Alcan, Paris, 1903). 

(23) Idem, pp. 32-33- 

(24) Idem, p. 41. 

(25) Idem, p. 42. 

(26) These sections are reduced from Dawson's summary in 

op. cit, pp. 255-257. 

(27) Quoted in Dawson, op. cit, p. 260. 

(28) Bebel, Attentate und Sozialdemokratie, p. 2. 

(29) ProtokoH of the Congress of the German Social-Democ- 

racy, Wyden, 1880, p. 38 (Zurich, 1880). 

(30) Idem, p. 42- 

(31) Idem, p. 43- 

(32) Quoted by Dawson, op. cit., p. 265. 

(33) Speech in the Reichstag, March 21, 1884; quoted by Daw- 

son, op. cit, pp. 268-269. 


(34) Speech in the Reichstag, April 2, 1886; quoted by Daw- 

son, op. cit, p. 271. 

(35) Protokoll of the Proceedings of Party Conferences of the 

German Social-Democracy, Erfurt, i8gi, p. 206 (Berlin, 


(i) Quoted by Prolo, Les Anarchistes, p. 66. 
(2) International Socialist Workers and Trade Union Con- 
gress, London, i8g6, p. 31. 
{3) Idem, p. 50. 

(4) De Seilhac, Les Congres Ouvriers en France, p. 331 (Ar- 

mand Colin et Cie., Paris, 1899). 

(5) Idem, pp. 331-332. 

(6) Compte-Rendu du Congres National Corporatif, Montpe- 

lier, 1902. 

(7) L'Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste, etc., pp. 48-49. 

(8) Sombart, Socialism and the Socialist Movement, pp. 98-99 

(E. P. Dutton & Co., New York, 1909; trans, from 6th 
German edition). 

(9) Louis Levine, The Labor Movement in France, p. 147 

(Columbia University, New York, 1912). 

(10) Arthur D. Lewis, Syndicalism and the General Strike, 

p. 70 (T. Fisher Unwin, London, 1912). 

(11) Berth, Les Nouveaux aspects du Socialisme, p. 36 (Marcel 

Riviere et Cie., Paris, igo8). 

(12) Robert Browning, Cleon. 

(13) Sombart, op. cit., p. no. 

(14) Compte-Rendu of the Seventh International Socialist Con- 

gress, Stuttgart, 1907, p. 202. 
(is) Cf. Compte-Rendu of the Sixth International Socialist 
Congress, Amsterdam, 1904, p. 53. 

(16) Levine, op. cit., p. 195. 

(17) Compte-Rendu du Congris National Corporatif, Toulouse, 

1910, p. 226. 

(18) fitienne Buisson, La Greve Generate, p. 59 (Librairie 

George Bellais, Paris, 1905). 

(19) Labriola, Karl Marx, pp. 255-259 (Marcel Riviere et Cie., 

Paris, 1910). 


(20) Plechanoflf, Anarchism and Socialism, p. 63. 

(21) Kampffmeyer, Changes in the Theory and Tactics of the 

German Social Democracy, pp. 87-88 (C. H. Kerr, Chi- 
cago, igo8); 
(2a) Quoted in Kampffmeyer, op. cit., p. 88. 

(23) Idem, p. 89. 

(24) Quoted in Jaures, Studies in Socialism, pp. 75-76. 

(25) Kautsky, Das Erfurter Programm, pp. 117-119 (8th Edi- 

tion, Stuttgart, 1907) ; Cf. also The Socialist Republic, 
by Kautsky, pp. lo-ii. 

(26) Communist Manifesto, p. 15. 

(27) Engels, Socialism, Utopian and Scientific, p. 76. 

(28) Cf. Menger, The Right to the Whole Produce of Labor, 

p. 117 (Macmillan & Co., London, 1899). 

(29) Webb, The History of Trade Unionism, p. 145. 

(30) Idem, p. 146. 

(31) Quoted by Sombart, op. cit, p. 118. 

(32) Sombart, op. cit., p. 118. 

(33) Idem, p. 118. 

(34) Marx, Revolution and Counter-Revolution, pp. 109-110. 

(35) Compte-Rendu of the Fourth International Congress of the 

International Working Men's Association, p. 88. 

(36) Quoted by Plechanoff, op. cit, p. 90. 

(37) fimile Pouget, Le Syndicat, p. 13 (fimile Pouget, Paris, 

2d Edition). 

(38) Sorel, Illusions du progres, p. 10 (Marcel Riviere et Cie., 

Paris, 1911). 

(39) Compte-Rendu of the Fifth National Congress of the 

French Socialist Party, 1908, p. 352. 

(40) XI e. Congres National Corporatif, Paris, 1900, p. 198; 

quoted by Levine, op. cit., p. 97. 

(41) La Confederation GenSrale du Travail; II La Tactique. 

(42) Idem. 

(43) Cf. Proudhon, La Revolution sociale et le coup d'£tat, 

(Ernest Flammarion, Paris) ; Goldman, Minorities versus 
Majorities, in Anarchism and Other Essays; and Kro- 
potkin, Les Minorites Revolutionnaires, in Paroles d'tm 

(44) Webb, The History of Trade Unionism, pp. 147-148. 


(45) Compte-Rendu of the Third National Congress of the 

French Socialist Party, 1906, pp. 189-192. 

(46) Idem, p. 186. 

(47) Jaures, Studies in Socialism, pp. 127-128. 

(48) Idem, pp. 124-125. 

(49) Idem, pp. 128-129. 

(so) Compte-Rendu of the Fourth International Congress of the 
International Working Men's Association, Basel, 1869, 
p. 6. 

(si) Kropotkin, The Great French Revolution, p. 423 (G. P. 
Putnam's Sons, New York, 1909). 

(52) Proudhon, Idee Generate de la Revolution au XlXe. Sli- 

de, p. 304 (Gamier Freres, Paris, 1851). 

(53) Idem. p. 197. 


(i) Proudhon, Idee Generate de la Revolution, p. 149. 

(2) Roger A. Pryor, quoted in the report of the Investigation 

of the Employment of Pinkerton Detectives : House Spe- 
cial Committee Report, 1892, p. 225. 

(3) Investigation of the Employment of Pinkerton Detectives: 

Senate Special Committee Report, 1892, p. 247. 

(4) Thomas Beet, Methods of American Private Detective 

Agencies, Appleton's Magazine, October, 1906. 

(5) Idem. 

(6) Idem. 

(7) Idem. 

(8) New York Sun, May 8, 191 1. 

(9) New York Call, September 14, 1910. 

(10) Investigation of the Employment of Pinkerton Detectives: 

House Special Committee Report, 1892, p. 226. 

(11) See his testimony, pp. 92-94 of the Senate Report. 

(12) Report of the Industrial Commission, 1901, Vol. VIII, 

pp. 257-258, 261 (Chicago Labor Disputes). 

(13) American Federationist, November, 1911, Vol. XVIII, p. 


(14) Limiting Federal Injunction: Hearings before a Sub- 

committee of the Committee on the Judiciary, United 
States Senate, Jan. 6, 1913, Part I, p. 19. 


(15) Idem, p. 20. 

(16) Afpleton's Magazine, October, 1906. 

(17) Hillquit, History of Socialism in the United States, pp. 


(18) Investigation of the Employment of Pinkerton Detectives, 

Senate Special Committee Ileport, 1892, p. xiii. 

(19) Idem, p. ii. 

(20) Idem, p. xii. 

(21) Idem, p. XV. 

(22) Investigation of the Employment of Pinkerton Detectives: 

House Special Committee Report, 1892, p. 224. 

(23) Idem, p. 225. 

(24) Report on the Chicago Strike of June- July, 1894, by the 

United States Strike Commission, p. xxxviii. 

(25) Idem, p. xliv. , 

(26) Idem, p. 3S6. 

(27) Idem, p. 370. 

(28) Idem, p. 397- 

(29) Idem, pp. 366-367. 

(30) Idem, p. 371. 

(31) Idem, p. 368. 
(3a) Idem, pp. 368-369. 

(33) Idem, p. 372 (from the testimony of Harold I. Cleve- 


(34) Idem, p. 360. 

(33) Debs, The Federal Government and the Chicago Strike, 
p. 24 (Standard Publishing Co., Terre Haute* Ind., 1904). 

(36) Idem, p; 24. 

(37) Emma F. Langdon, The Cripple Creek Strike, p. 153 (The 

Great Western Publishing Co., Denver, 1905). 

(38) Report of the Commissioner of Labor, 1905, on Labor Dis- 

turbances in Colorado, p. 186. 

(39) Idem, p. 206. 

(40) Idem, p. 304- 

(41) Cf. Clarence S. Darrow, Speech in the HayWood Case, p. 

56 (Wayland's Monthly, Girard, Kan., October, 1907). 

(42) Report of the Commissioner of Labor, 1903, on Labor 

Disturbances in Colorado, p. 192. 

(43) C. Dobrogeaunu-Gherea, Socialism vs. Anarchism, New 

York Call, February 3, iP"- 


(44) Kropotkin, The Terror in Russia, p. 57 (Methuen & Co., 

London, 1909). 

(45) Bamford, Passages in the Life of a Radical, Vol. II, p. 

14 (T. Fisher Unwin, London, 1893). 

(46) In Bamford's "Passages in the Life of a Radical" (T. 

Fisher Unwin, London, 1893, we find that spies and 
provocateurs were sent into the labor movement as 
early as 1815. In Holyoake's "Sixty Years of an Agita- 
tor's Life" (Unwin, 1900), in Howell's "Labor Legisla- 
tion, Labor Movements, Labor Leaders" (Unwin, 1902), 
and in Webb's "History of Trade Unionism" (Long- 
mans, Green & Co., London, 1902), the work of several 
noted police agents is spoken of. In Gammage's "His- 
tory of the Chartist Movement" (Truslove & Hanson, 
London, 1894) and in Davidson's "Annals of Toil" (F. 
R. Henderson, London, n.d.) we are told of one police 
agent who gave balls and ammunition to the men and 
endeavored to persuade them to commit murder. 

Marx, in "Revolution and Counter- Revolution" (Scrib- 
ner's Sons, 1896), and Engels, in Revelations sur le 
Proces des Communistes (Schleicher Freres, Paris, 
1901), tell of the work of the German police agents in 
connection with the Communist League; while Bebel, 
in "My Life" (Chicago University Press, 1912), and in 
Attentate und Sozialdemokratie (Vorwarts, Berlin, 
1905), tells of the infamous work of provocateurs sent 
among the socialists at the time of Bismarck's repres- 
sion. Kropotkin, in "The Memoirs of a Revolutionist" 
(Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, 1899), and in "The 
Terror in Russia" (Methuen & Co., London, 1909), de- 
votes many pages to the crimes committed by the secret 
police of Russia, not only in that country but else- 
where. Mazzini, Marx, Bakounin, and nearly all prom- 
inent anarchists, socialists, and republicans of the middle 
of the last century, were surrounded by spies, who made 
every effort to induce them to enter into plots. 

In the "Investigation of the Employment of Pinkerton 
Detectives : House and Senate Special Committee Re- 
ports, 1892"; in the "Report on Chicago Strike of June-, 
July, 1894; U. S. Strike Comrnission, 1895"; in the "Re- 


port of the Commissioner of Labor on Labor Disturb- 
ances in Colorado, 1905"; in the "Report of the Indus- 
trial Commission, 1901, Vol. VIII", there is a great mass 
of evidence on the work of detectives, both in committing 
violence themselves and in seeking to provoke others to 

In "Conditions in the Paint Creek District of West 
Virginia: Hearings before a subcommittee of the Com- 
mittee on Education and Labor, U. S. Senate, 1913"; in 
"Hearings before the Committee on Rules, House of 
Representatives, on Conditions in the Westmoreland Coal 
Fields"; in the "Report on the Strike at Bethlehem, Sen- 
ate Document No. 521"; in "Peonage in Western Penn- 
sylvania: Hearings before the Committee on Labor, 
House of Representatives, 191 1," considerable evidence 
is given of the thuggery and murder committed by de- 
tectives, guards, and state constabularies. Some of this 
evidence reveals conditions that could hardly be equaled 
in Russia. 

"History of the Conspiracy to Defeat Striking Hold- 
ers" (Internatl. Holders' Union of N. America) ; "Limit- 
ing Federal Injunction: Hearings before the Subcommit- 
tee of the Committee on the Judiciary, U. S. Senate, 
1912, Part V" ; the report of the same hearings for 
January, 1913, Part I ; "United States Steel Corporation : 
Hearings before Committee on Investigation, House of 
Representatives, Feb. 12, 1912"; the "Report on Strike 
of Textile Workers in Lawrence, Hass. : Commissioner 
of Labor, 1912"; and "Strike at Lawrence, Hass.: 
Hearings before the Committee on Rules, House of 
Representatives, Harch 2-7, 1912," also contain a mass 
of evidence concerning the crimes of detectives and the 
terrorist tactics used by those employed to break strikes. 

Alexander Irvine's "Revolution in Los Angeles'' (Los 
Angeles, 1911) ; F. E. Wolfe's "Capitalism's Conspiracy 
in California" (The White Press, Los Angeles, 1911) ; 
Debs's "The Federal Government and the Chicago Strike" 
(Standard Publishing Co., Terre Haute, Ind., 1904) ; 
Ben Lindse/s "The Rule of Plutocracy in Colorado"; 
the "Reply of the Western Federation of Hiners to the 


'Red Book' of the Mine Operators"; "Anarchy in Colo- 
rado: Who Is to Blame?" (The Bartholomew Publishing 
Co., Denver, Colo., 1905) ; the American Federationist, 
April, 1912; the American Federationist, November, 
191 1 ; Job Harriman's "Class War in Idaho" {Volks- 
Zeitung Library, New York, 1900) ; Emma F. Langdon's 
"The Cripple Creek Strike" (The Great Western Pub- 
lishing Co., Denver, 1905) ; C. H. Salmons' "The Bur- 
lington Strike" (Bunnell & Ward, Aurora, 111., 1889) ; 
and Morris Friedman's "The Pinkerton Labor Spy'' (Wil- 
shire Book Co., New York, 1907), contain the statements 
chiefly of labor leaders and socialists upon the violence 
suffered by the unions as a result of the work of the 
courts, of the police, of the militia, and of detectives. 
"The Pinkerton Labor Spy" gives what purports to be 
the inside story of the Pinkerton Agency and the de- 
tails of its methods in dealing with strikes. Clarence S. 
Darrow's "Speech in the Haywood Case" {Wayland's 
Monthly, Girard, Kan., Oct., 1907) is the plea made be- 
fore the jury in Idaho that freed Haywood. Only the 
oratorical part of it was printed in the daily press, while 
the crushing evidence Darrow presents against the de- 
tective agencies and their infamous work was ignored. 

Capt. Michael J. Schaack's "Anarchy and Anarchists" 
(F. J. Schulte & Co., Chicago, 1899) ; and Pinkerton's 
"The Molly Maguires and Detectives" (G. W. Dilling- 
ham Co., New York, 1898) are the naive stories of those 
who have performed notable roles in labor troubles. 
They read like "wild-west" stories written by overgrown 
boys, and the manner in which these great detectives 
frankly confess that they or their agents were at the 
bottom of the plots which they describe is quite in- 

"The Chicago Martyrs : The Famous Speeches of the 
Eight Anarchists in Judge Gary's Court and Altgeld's 
Reasons for Pardoning Fielden, Neebe and Schwab" 
(Free Society, San Franscisco, 1899), contains the mem- 
orable message of Governor Altgeld when pardoning the 
anarchists. In his opinion they were in no small measure 
the dupes of police spies and the victims of judicial in- 


justice. I have dealt at length with Thomas Beet's ar- 
ticle on "Methods of American Private Detectives" in 
Appleton's Magazine for October, igo6, but it will repay 
a full reading. "Cceur d'Alene Mining Troubles: The 
Crime of the Century" (Senate Document) and "State- 
ment and Evidence in Support of Charges Against the 
U. S. Steel Corporation by the American Federation of 
Labor" are perhaps worth mentioning. 

I have not attempted to give an exhaustive list of ref- 
erences, but only to call attention to a few books and 
pamphlets which have found their way into my library. 

(47) Quoted by August Bebel in Attentate und Sosialdemokra- 

tie, p. 12. 

(48) Limiting Federal Injunctions : Hearings before a Subcom- 

mittee of the Committee on the Judiciary, United States 
Senate, 1913, Part I, p. 8. 


(i) Sombart, Socialism and the Socialist Movement, p. 176. 

(2) Liebknecht, Karl Marx: Biographical Memoirs, p. 46. 

(3) Idem, p. 85. 

(4) L'Alliance de la Democratie Socialiste, etc., p. 132 (Secret 

Statutes of the Alliance). 

(5) Communist Manifesto, p. 37. 

(6) Idem, p. 32. 

(7) Idem, p. 38. 

(8) Engels' introduction to Struggle of the Social Qasses in 

France; quoted by Sombart, op. cit., pp. 68-69. 

(9) Liebknecht, No Compromise, No Political Trading, p. 28; 

my italics. 

(10) Frederic Harrison, quoted in Davidson's Annals of Toil, 

p. 273 (F. R. Henderson, London, n.d.). 

(11) Engels in L'Allemagne en 1848, p. 269. 

(12) Communist Manifesto, p. 30. 


Adam, Paul, quoted concerning 
case of RaVachol, 81-82. 

Agents provocateurs, work of, in 
popular uprisings and socialist 
and labor movements, HO-120, 
203-204, 264; use of private de- 
tectives as, in United States, 
290-292, 312-314. 

Alexander II of Russia, assassina- 
tion of, 56, 221. 

America. See United States. 

Anarchism, introduction of doc- 
trines of, in Western Europe by 
Bakounin, 5 S. ; secret societies 
founded in interests of, 11-14; 
insurrections under auspices of, 
28-39; criticism of, by socialists, 
40; uprisings in Italy fathered 
by, 41-44; unbridgeable chasm 
between socialism and, 47-48; 
with the Propaganda of the 
Deed becomes synonymous with 
violence and crime, 55; foothold 
secured by, in Germany, 55-57; 
in Austria-Hungary, 57-58; agi- 
tation in France, 58-60; doc- 
trines of, carried to America by 
Johann Most, 64-68; the Hay- 
market tragedy, 68-70; defense 
of, by Benjamin R. Tucker, and 
disowning of terrorist tactics 
70-74; responsibility for deeds 
of leaders of, laid at Bismarck's 
door, 74-75; assassination of 
President McKinley and shoot- 
ing of H. C. Frick, 75; failure of, 
to take firm root in America any 
more than in Germany and 
England, 75-76; in the Latin 
countries, 76; acts of violence in 

name of, in Europe, 77-89 ; ques 
tion of responsibility of, for acts 
of violence committed by ter- 
rorists, 90 ff . ; different types at- 
tracted by socialism and, 92-93; 
the psychology of devotees of, 
93-94 ; causes of terrorist tactics 
assigned by Catholic Church to 
doctrines of socialism, 98-100; 
source of, traceable to great-man 
theory, 102 £f.; work of police 
agents in connection with, 110- 
120; the battle between social- 
ism and, 154-192; emergence of, 
as a distinct philosophy, 193; 
history of, after Hague congress 
of 1872, 194 ff.; congress in Ge- 
nevain 1873, 196-199 ; insolvable 
problem created by, in rejecting 
political action of the working 
class, 200 ; assaults on the Marx- 
ists by adherents of, 201-204; 
bitter warfare between socialism 
and, 201-205; appearance of 
syiidicalisnl as an aid to, 229- 
239 ; ignoring of, in socialist con- 
gresses, 232; appearance of the 
"intellectuals" in ranks of, 239- 
241; similarities between philos- 
ophies and methods of syndical- 
ism and, 239-245; differences 
between syndicalism and, 245- 
246; consideration of the oldest 
form of, that of the wealthy tod 
ruling classes, 276-326; of the 
powerful in the United States, 
280 ff. 
Andrieux, French revolutionist, 

Angiolillo, Italian terrorist, 87. 
Anti-socialist law, Bismarck's, re- 
sponsible for Most's career as a 




terrorist, 74r-75; passage of, and 
chief measures contained in, 
314-217; growth of socialist vote 
uader, 225; failure and repeal of, 

Arson practiced by revolutionists 
in America, 73-74. 

Assassination, preaching of, by 
Bakounin and NechayeS, 18; 
practice of, by anarchists in 
Prance, 77-89; the Catholic 
Church and, 98-100; glorifica- 
tion of, in history, 101-103. 

Atwell, B. A., on character of dep- 
uty marshals in Chicago railway 
strike, 300. 

Australia, parliamentary power of 
socialists in, 329, 330. 

Austria, Empress of, assassinated 
by Italian anarchist, 87. 

Austria - Hungary, development 
and checking of anarchist move- 
ment in, 57-58; growth of so- 
cialist and labor vote in, 328. 

Baker, Ray Stannard, quoted on 
character of deputy marshals in 
Chicago railway strike, 299-300. 

Bakounin, Michael, father of ter- 
rorism, 4; admiration of, for 
Satan, 5 ; views held by, on abso- 
lutism, 5-6; destruction of all 
States and all Churches advo- 
cated by, 6; varying opinions of, 
7; shown to be human in his 
contradictions, 7-8; chief char- 
acteristics and qualities of his 
many-sided nature, 8; birth, 
family, and early life, 8-9 ; leaves 
Russia for Germany, Switzer- 
land, and France, 9; meets 
Proudhon, Mmtc, George Sand, 
and other revolutionary spirits, 
9; leads insurrectionary move- 
ments, 9-10; captured, sen- 
tenced to death, and finally 
banished to Siberia, 10; escapes 
and reaches England, 10; change 
in views shown in writings of, 

10-11; spends some time in 
Italy, 11-12; forms secret or- 
ganization of revolutionists, 11- 
13; the International Brothers, 
the National Brothers, and the 
International Alliance of Social 
Democracy, 12-14; enters the 
International Working Men's 
Association, with the hope of 
securing leadership, 15; declares 
war on political and economic 
powers of Europe and assails 
Marz, Engels, and other lead- 
ers, 15-16; interest of, in Rus- 
sian affairs, 16; collaborates with 
Sergei Nechayeif, 16-17; ex- 
pounds doctrines of criminal ac- 
tivity, 17-22; the "Words Ad- 
dressed to Students," 17-19; the 
"Revolutionary Catechism," 
19-22; quarrel between Necha- 
yeff and, 23-26; remains in 
Switzerland and trains young 
revolutionists, 26-27; takes part 
in unsuccessful insurrection at 
Lyons, 28-35; Marx quoted 
concerning action of, at Lyons, 
35-36; influence of, felt in Span- 
ish revolution of 1873, 37-41; 
in Italy, during uprisings of 
1874, 42-43; retires from public 
life, 45-46; humiliating experi- 
ences of last sears, 46-47 ; opin- 
ions expressed by anarchists and 
by socialists concerning, upon 
death of, 47-48; teachings of, 
the inspiration of the Propa- 
ganda of the Deed, 52; principles 
of, preached by Johann Most, 
65; spread of terrorist ideas of, in 
America, 65 ; history of the bat- 
tle between Marx and, 154-193; 
suspected and charged with 
being a Russian police agent, 
156, 158; quoted on Marx, 157; 
victory won over Marx by, at 
Basel congress of International 
in 1869, 162-169 ; attack of Marx 
and his followers on, and reply 
by, in the "Study upon the 
German Jews," 169-171; flood 



of literature by, based on his 
antagonism to religion and to 
Government, 172-174; inability 
of, to comprehend doctrines of 
Marxian socialism, 178-179; ir- 
reconcilability of doctrines of, 
with those of socialists, 179-185 ; 
expulsion of, from the Inter- 
national, 191; attacks the Gen- 
eral Council of the International 
as a new incarnation of the 
State, 195; quoted to show an- 
tagonism between his doctrines 
and those of Marxists, 251; the 
robber worship of, 278-279. 

Barcelona, bomb-throwing in, 87. 

Barrot, Odilon, 348. 

Basel, congress of International at 
(1869), 162-169. 

Bauer, Heinrioh, 131. 

Bauler, Madame A., quoted on 
influence of Bakounin, 26-27. 

Bebel, August, quoted on Bis- 
marck's repressive measures, 
55-56; quoted on Johann Most, 
74-75; on the condoning of as- 
sassination by the Catholic 
Church, 98-99; reveals partici- 
pations of high officials in crimes 
of the anarchists, 114r-118; men- 
tioned, 205, 209-210; account of 
struggle between Bismarck and 
party of, 211-227; State-social- 
ist propositions favored by, 255- 

Beesby, E. S., 35; urges political 
activity on early trade unions, 

Beet, Thomas, exposure by, of 
evils attending use of detectives 
in United States, 283-284, 290- 
291, 314. 

Berkman, Alexander, shooting of 
H. C. Frick by, 75; motive 
which actuated, 101; events 
which led up to action of, 292- 
295 ; fate of, contrasted with that 
of agents of the anarchy of 
the wealthy during Homestead 
strike, 295. 

Bern, revolutionary manifestation 
at (1877), 53. 

Berth, Edward, quoted in connec- 
tion with the "intellectuals," 
240-241; mentioned, 270, 353. 

Bismarck, stirs up Germany 
against social-democratic party 
on .account of anarchistic acts, 
55; effect of action of, on anar- 
chism in Germany, 56; responsi- 
bility of, for Johann Most and 
other terrorists, and for Hay- 
market tragedy, 74r-75; Bebel 
quoted in connection with the 
hero-worship of, in Germany, 
103-104; admiration of, for 
Lassalle, 206; corruption intro- 
duced into German labor move- 
ment by, 210-211; exposed by 
Liebknecht and Bebel, begins 
war upon Marxian socialists, 
211-212; futile efforts of, to 
provoke social democrats to 
violence, 218-219; reaction of 
his violent measures upon him- 
self, 227. 

Blanc, Gaspard, 29, 31. 

Blanc, Louis, 128, 129, 353; Las- 
salle's views compared with 
those of, 207. 

Blanqui, socialist insurrectionist, 

Bonnot, French motor bandit, 88- 
89, 104. 

Booth, J. Wilkes, motive which 
actuated, in killing of Lincoln, 

Brandos, George, "Young Ger- 
many" by, 132; quoted on Las- 
saUe, 205-206. 

Brass, August, tool of Bismarck, 

Bray, J. F., 130. 

Bresci, G.aetano, assassin of King 
Humbert, 87. 

Briand, Aristide, 184 n., 270, 353. 

Brousse, Paul, 49, 196-197, 198; 
originates phrase, "the Propa- 
ganda of the Deed," 51-52; 
leads revolutionary manifesta- 



tion at Bern, 53; leaves the Ba- 
kouninists, 204. 

Bucher, Lothar, tool of Bismarck, 

Burlington strike, outrages by 
private detectives during, 296. 

Burns, William J., quoted on char- 
acter of detectives as a class, 


Cabet, Utopian socialism of, 144. 

Cafiero, Carlo, Italian revolution- 
ist, disciple of Bakounin, 38, 45, 
46, 47, 49, 50, 51, 54. 

Camorra, an organization of Ital- 
ians which pursues terrorist tac- 
tics, 100. 

"Capital," Marx's work, 152, 344. 

Capitalism, workingmen's igno- 
rance concerning, previous to 
advent of Karl Marx, 338-341. 

Carnot, President, assassination 
of, 85. 

Caserio, assassin of President Car- 
not, 79, 85-86. 

Castillo, Canovas del, torture of 
suspected terrorists by, 87. 

Catholic Church, burden of an- 
archism laid on doctrines of so- 
cialism by, 98; right of assassi- 
nation upheld by clergy of, 98- 
99; terrorist tactics pursued by 
organizations of, 100. 

Cerretti, Celso, Italian insurrec- 
tionist, 42. 

Chartists, the, 130, 136, 137, 149. 

Cluseret, General, 29, 32, 36. 

Colorado, governmental tyranny 
during labor wars in, 217; politi- 
cal and industrial battles in 
(1894-1904), 302-311. 

Commune of Paris, viewed as a 
spontaneous uprising of the 
working class, 36-37. 

Communist League, Marx pre- 
sents his views to, resulting in 
the Communist Manifesto, 137— 

Communist Manifesto, of Marx 
and Engels, 137-141 ; the univer- 

sal text-book of the socialist 
movement, 334. 

Communist societies in Germany, 

Congress of United States, social- 
ists not represented in, 330, 333. 

Congresses, international, of so- 
cialists, 334. 

Cooper, Thomas, 130. 

Cooperative movement, beginning 
of, in England, 130; progress in 
growth of, 331-332. 

Corruption, the omnipresence of, 

Costa, Andrea, 42; at anarchist 
congress in Geneva (1873), 197- 
198; article by, attacking social- 
ists, 201; leaves the Bakoun- 
inists, 204. 

Courts, prevalence of violence set 
down to corruption of, 107, 108. 

Cramer, Peter J., union leader 
killed by special police, 287. 

Criminal elements,, part played by, 
in uprisings, 109-110; use of, as 
the tool of reactionary intrigue, 
110 ff., 281-326. 

Cripple Creek, Colo., strike, 304- 

Cjrvoct, militant anarchist of 
Lyons, 59-60. 

Czolgosz, assassin of President 
McKinley, 75, 88; motive which 
actuated, 101. 

Debs, Eugene V., on instigation to 
violence by deputies in Chicago 
railway strike, 301-302. 

Decamps, French terrorist, 79. 

Delesalle, French anarchist, a spon- 
sor of sabotage as a war measure 
of trade unionists, 236. 

Democracy, attacks of syndicalism 
on, 264-265 ; view of the present 
day as the age of, 349; to be 
achieved only through democ- 
racy, 350, 352; eternal faith of 
socialists in, 353. 

Detectives, employment of, as 
weapons of anarchists of the 



wealthy class in the United 
States, 281 ff.; character of the 
so-called, employed during big 
strikes in United States, 282- 
290; use of, as instigators and 
perpetrators of acts of violence, 
290-292, 299-302, 312-314; pe- 
cuniary interest of, in provoking 
crime, 314; intentional mislead- 
ing of employers by, 316-319; 
prolongation of strikes by, 319- 
320 ; a few of the outrages com- 
mitted by, 320-321. 

Deville, Gabriel, 202. 

Direct action, opposed by syn- 
dicalists to the political action 
of socialists, 267 ff.; cannot be 
revolutionary action and is des- 
tined to failure, 272. 

Duehring, Eugene, mistaken views 
of socialism held by, 186. 

Duval, Clement, French anarchist 
and robber, 77-78. 

Dynamite, glorifying of, by ter- 
rorists, as the poor man's wea- 
pon against capitalism, 69. 


Eccarius, reply of, to Bakounin at 
Basel congress, 178; at anarchist 
congress in Geneva (1873), 196. 

Egoistic conception of history, 
carried to its extreme by anar- 
chism, 102 ff. 

Engels, Frederick, 15; criticism by, 
of position of Bakouninists in 
Spanish revolution, 40, 41; de- 
scription by, of early communist 
societies in Germany, 131; first 
meeting of Marx and, and be- 
ginning of their cooperative 
labors, 132-133; reply of, to Dr. 
Duehring, 186; socialist view of 
the State as expressed by, 257- 
258; on the lasting power exer- 
cised by Marx over the labor 
movement, 338; on the reor- 
ganization of society through 
the conscious cooperation of the 
masses, 347-348. 


Fenians, an organization of Irish- 
men which pursued terrorist 
tactics, 100. 

Feudal lords, anarchism of the, 
277-278, 279. 

Fortis, Italian revolutionist, 42. 

Fourier, 128; Utopian socialism of, 

France, anarchist activities in 
(1882), 58-60; deeds of terrorists 
in, 77-86; effects of terrorist 
tactics in, 86-87; crimes of mo- 
tor bandits in, 88-89; early days 
of socialism in, 128-129 ; launch- 
ing of socialist labor party in 
(1878), 202-203; individualism 
in, one cause for rise of syn- 
dicalism, 242—243; poverty as a 
cause for reliance upon violence 
of trade unions in, 244. 

Frick, Henry C, shooting of, 75; 
events which led up to shooting 
of, 292-295. 

Fruneau, quoted on corruption in 
revolutions, 263. 


General Confederation of Labor, 
organization of, 233. 

General strike, inauguration of 
idea, by French trade unionists, 
233-234 ; Guferard's argument 
for, 234-235; notable points in 
program of action of, 235-236; 
program of trade unionists in 
case of success in, 237-238 ; con- 
ditions which produce agitation 
for, 243-244; doubts of syn- 
dicalists as to success of a peace- 
able strike, 246-247; JaurSs' 
warning against the, 270; ridi- 
cule of, by Marx and Engels, 

Geneva, congress of anarchists at, 
in 1873, 196-199. 

Germany, beginning of anarchist 
activity in, 55-57; great polit- 
ical organization built up by 



socialists in, 203 ; meteoric career 
of Lassalle in, 205-209; history 
of Bismarck's losing battle with 
social democracy in, 211-227; 
State ownership favored by so- 
cialists in, 264r-256; growth of 
socialist and labor vote in, 328; 
strong parliamentary position of 
socialists in, 329-330. 

Goldman, Emma, quoted on Jo- 
hann Most, 67 ; quoted on causes 
of violent acts by terrorists, 91 ; 
on the connection of police with 
anarchist outrages, 119. 

Grave, Jean, French anarchist, 81. 

Gray, John, 130. 

Great-man theory, terrorist deeds 
of violence traceable to, 102 ff. 

Gu§rard, argument of, for revo- 
lutionary general strike, 234r- 

Guesde, Jules, 202, 204; quoted on 
direct action vs. political action, 

Guillaume, James, Swiss revolu- 
tionist, friend of Bakounin, 28, 
38, 42, 45, 47, 53, 197, 199, 229; 
takes part in manifestation at 
Bern (1877), 63. 

Hales, John, at anarchist congress 
in Geneva (1873), 196-199. 

Hall, Charles, 130. 

Harney, George Julian, 137. 

Harrison, Frederic, quoted, 151. 

Hasselmann, German revolution- 
ist, 56, 65; ejection of, from so- 
cialist party, 220. 

Haymarket catastrophe, Chicago, 

Henry, fimile, French terrorist, 

, 79, 84r-85, 104. 

Herwegh, German poet and revo- 
lutionist, 157-158. 

Hess, Moritz, secret history of 
Basel congress of 1869 by, 169- 

Hillquit, Morris, description by, of 
battle between strikers and -de- 
tectives at Homestead, 293-294. 

Hins, follower of Bakounin, quoted, 
163; outlines, in 1869, program 
of modern syndicalists, 166-167. 

Hodel, assassin of Emperor Wil- 
liam, 55, 213. 

Hodgskin, Thomas, 130. 

Hogan, "Kid," quoted on strike- 
breakers, 288-289. 

Homestead ''strike, character of 
Pinkertons employed in, 285- 
286; account of battle between 
strikers and special police, 292- 

Houses of the People, in Europe, 

Humbert, King, attempt upon life 
of, 55; assassination of, 87. 

Hume, Joseph, 130. 

Individualism in France a contrib- 
uting cause to rise of syndical- 
ism, 242-243. 

Industrial Workers of the World, 
American syndicalism, 247 n. 

Inheritance, abolition of right of, 
advocated by Bakounin, 163- 

Intellectuals, appearance of, as an 
aid to anarchism, 239-241; lack 
of real understanding of labor 
movement by, and fate of, 354. 

International Alliance of Social 
Democracy, 12-14. 

International Brothers, 12-14. 

International Working Men's As- 
sociation (the "International"), 
Bakounin's attempt to inject his 
ideas into, 7, 15; launching of 
the, 145-146; beginning made 
by, in actual political work, 150- 
152; struggles in, between fol- 
lowers of Marx and followers of 
Bakounin's anarchist doctrines, 
154 S.; congress of, at Basel in 
1869 the turning-point in its his- 
tory, 162-168; overturning of 
foundation principles of, owing 
to anarchist tendencies of the 
congress, 168; period of slight 
accomplishment, from 1869 to 



1873, 189-190; congress of 1873 
at The Hague, 191; expulsion of 
Bakounin and removal of seat 
of General Council to New York, 
191-192; motives of Marx in 
destroying, 192; one chief result 
of existence of, the distinct sep- 
aration of anarchism and social- 
ism, 192-193; attempts of Ba- 
kouninists to revive, after Hague 
congress, 196 ff.; end of efforts 
of anarchists to build a new, 200. 

International Working People's 
Association, anarchist society in 
America, 68, 73. 

Italy, anarchist uprisings in, in 

1874, 41-44; demonstration un- 
der doctrines of Propaganda of 
the Deed in (1877), 53-54; rea- 
sons for individual execution of 
justice in, found in expense of 
official justice and corruptness of 
courts, 108; conditions in, lead- 
ing to rise of syndicalism, 242, 
243; socialist and labor vote in, 
328; parliamentary strength of 
socialists in, 330. 

Iwanoff, Russian revolutionist, 

Jaclard, Victor, 14, 29. 

Jaurfes, tribute paid to Marx by, 
152-153; warning pronounced 
by, against the general strike, 

Jesuits and doctrine of assassina- 
tion, 98-99. 

Jones, Ernest, 130. 


Kammerer, anarchist in Austria- 
Hungary, 57, 58. 

Kampffmeyer, Paul, quoted on 
State-socialist propositions in 
Germany, 255. 

Kautsky, Karl, on the Statism of 
the socialist party, 256. 

Kropotkin, Prince, 49-50; enthu- 
siasm of, over the Propaganda of 

the Deed, 52; quoted on anar- 
chist activities at Lyons, 59; 
on act of United States Supreme 
Court declaring unconstitutional 
the eight-hour law on Govern- 
ment work, 62-63; quoted on 
the Pittsburgh strike, 63-64; on 
treatment of anarchists by so- 
cialists, 92 n. ; quoted on Russian 
secret police system, 113 n. ; ar- 
ticles by, attacking socialist 
parliamentary tactics, 201-202; 
on the necessity of parliamen- 
tary action in distribution of 
land after the French Revolu- 
tion, 272. 

Labor movement, violence char- 
acteristic of early years of the, 
125-126 ; beginning of real build- 
ing of, in the middle of the last 
century, 127; profit to, from aid 
of "intellectual" circles, 127; in 
France, 128-129; in England, 
129-131; setback to, in England 
due to various causes, 131; be- 
ginnings of, in Germany, 131- 
134; beginning of work of Marx 
and Engels in connection with, 
132 S. ; attempt of early socialist 
and anarchist sects to inject 
their ideas into, 145; launching 
of the International, 145 ff. ; en- 
trance of the International into 
actual political work, 150-rl52; 
the ideal of the labor movement 
as expressed by Lincoln, 152; 
part played by the International 
as an organization of labor, 192; 
origins of, in Germany, 209; 
Bismarck's persecution of social 
democrats in Germany, 211- 
227 ; entrance of anarchism into, 
in France, 231 ff.; illegitimate 
activities of capital against, in 
United States, 280-326; process 
of building structure of the 
present, 335-337; position as a 
great and material actuality, 



337; tracing of work done by 
Marx in connection with, 338 ff . ; 
progress of, as indicated by so- 
cialist and labor vote, 328-329; 
parliamentary strength of, 329- 
331 ; growth of cooperations and 
trade unions, 331—333. 

Ldhm Standard article on United 
States Supreme Court decision, 

Labor Temples in Europe, 332. 

Labriola, Arturo, syndicalist "crit- 
icism of socialism by, 249-251; 
views of, on Parliamentarism, 

Lafargue, Paul, 202. 

Lagardelle, on the antagonism of 
syndicalism and democracy, 

Lankiewicz, Valence, 28. 

Lassalle, German socialist agita- 
tor, 205 ff.; by organizing the 
Universal German Working 
Men's Association, becomes 
founder of German labor move- 
ment, 209; relations between 
Bismarck and, 210. 

Legieu, Carl, quoted on French 
labor movement, 243. 

Le Vin, detective, quoted on char- 
acter of special police, 286. 

Levine, Louis, "The Labor Move- 
ment in EVance" by, quoted, 

Liebknecht, Wilhelm, quoted on 
Marx's opposition to insurrec- 
tion led by Herwegh, 158; men- 
tioned, 205, 209-210; efforts of 
Bismarck to corrupt, 211; per- 
secution of, by Bismarck, 211- 
212; frank statement of repub- 
lican principles by, 212-213; 
quoted on defeat of Bismarck by 
socialists, 226; quoted as in 
favor of State-socialist proposi- 
tions in Germany, 256. 

Lincoln, Abraham, ideal of the 
labor movement as expressed by, 

Lingg, Louis, Chicago anarchist, 
70, 95. 

Lombroso, on corrective measures 
to be used with anarchists, 9&* 
97; on the complicity of crimi>- 
nality and politics, 109. 

Lovett, William, 130. 

Luccheni, Italian assassin, 87. 

Lynchings, an explanation given 
for, 107, 108. 

Lyons, unsuccessful insiHTection 
at, in 1870, 28-35. 


McDoweU, Malcomb, on character 
of deputy marshals in Chicago 
railway strike, 300-301. 

McKinley, President, assassina- 
tion of, 75, 88. 

McNaxnaras, the, 318, 324. 

Mafia, the, an organization of 
Italians which pursues terror- 
ist tactics, 100. 

Malatesta, Enrico, Italian revo- 
lutionist, 43-44, 49, 51. 

Manufacturers' Association, law- 
less work of the, 318. 

Mariana, Jesuit who upheld as- 
sassination of tyrants, 98, 99. 

Marx, Karl, view of Bakounin 
held by, 7; meeting of Bakounin 
and, 9; assailed by Bakounin 
upon latter's entrance into the 
International, 15-16; quoted on 
the insurrection at Lyons in 
1870, 35-36; on Bakounin's 
"abolition of the State," 36; on 
the Commune of Paris, 37; edu- 
cation and early career of, 132- 
134; the Communist Manifesto, 
137-141; resignation of, from 
central council of Communist 
League, 141-142; gives evidencp 
of perception of lack of revolu- 
tionary promise in sectarian or- 
ganizations, secret societies, and 
political conspiracies, 142; gi- 
gantic intellectual labors of, in 
laying foundations of a scientific 
socialism, 143; the Interna- 
tional launched by, 145-146; es- 
sence of socialism of, in Pre- 



amble of the Provisional Rules 
of the International, 147^148; 
statement of idea of, as to revo- 
lutionary character of political 
activity, 149-150; immense work 
of, in connection with the Inter- 
national, and publishing of 
"Capital" by, 152; summing up 
of services of, by Jaur^s, 152- 
153; the battle between Bakou- 
nin and, 154 fF. ; annoyance and 
humiliation of, by victory of 
Bakouninists at Basel congress, 
168-169; bitter attack made on 
Bakounin and his circle by, 169- 
170; motives of, in destroying 
the International by moving 
seat of General Council to New 
York, 191-192; Bismarck's at- 
tempt to corrupt, 210; view held 
by, of the State and its func- 
tions, 257; quoted on "parlia- 
mentary crfetinism," 261-262; 
battles of worWngmen fought on 
lines laid dawn by, 338; im- 
mensity of task actually exe- 
cuted lor, 344-356. 

Merlino, Italian anarchist, 81. 

Michel, Louise, French anarchist, 

Milwaukee, character of special 
police employed during molders' 
strike in, 286-287. 

Mine Owners' Association, anar- 
chism of, in Colorado, 304-311. 

MoU, Joseph, 132, 137. 

MoUy Maguires, an organization 
of Irishmen which pursued ter- 
rorist tactics, 100. 

Most, Johann, a product of Bis- 
marck's man-hunting policy and 
legal t3Tanny, 56; the Freiheit of, 
57, 65; brings terrorist ideas of 
Bakounin and Nechayeff to 
America, 64^65; early history of, 
65-66; Emma Goldman's de- 
scription of, 67; effect of agita- 
tion and doctrines of, on social- 
ism in America, 67-68; climax of 
theories of, reached in the Hay- 
market tragedy, Chicago, 68-70; 

article on "Revolutionary Prin- 
ciples" by, 69-70; history of 
terrorist tactics in America cen- 
ters about career of, 74; respon- 
sibility of anti-socialist laws for 
misguided efforts and final 
downfall of, 74-75; ejected from 
socialist party for advocating 
violence in war with Bismarck, 

Motor bandits, career of, in 
France, 88-89. 

Museux, quoted on Ravachol, 82. 

"Muzzle Bill," Bismarck's, 221. 


National Brothers, the, 12-14. 

Nechayeff, Sergei, young Russian 
revolutionist, 16; collaboration 
of, with Bakounin, 16 ff.; ques- 
tion of share of "Words Ad- 
dressed to Students" and "The 
Revolutionary Catechism" to 
be attributed to, 22; activities 
of, in Russia, 22-23; murder of 
Iwanoff by, 23; quarrels with 
Bakounin, steals his papers, and 
flees to London, 23; subsequent 
career and death, 25-26. 

Nobiling, Dr. Karl, 55, 214. 


O'Brien, J. B., 130. 

O'Connor, Feargus, 130, 353. 

Orchard, Harry, crimes of, paid 
for by detective agencies, 307- 

Owen, Robert, 130; Utopian social- 
ism of, 144; in the Webbs' 
critique of, the economic falla- 
cies of syndicalism are revealed, 

Ozerof, revolutionary enthusiast, 
friend of Bakounin, 28, 30, 34. 

Paris, anarchist movement in 
(1883), 60; acts of violence in, 



Parliamentarism, criticism of, by 
syndicalists, 249, 261; attituda 
of socialism toward, 262-263. 

Parliamentary streneth of social- 
ism at present day, 329-331. 

Pelloutier, leader in French labor 
movement, 231. 

Peukert, anarchist in Austria- 
Hungary, 57, 58; found to be a 
police spy, 113-114. 

Pinkerton detectives, the tools of 
anarchists of the capitalist class 
in the United States, 281 ff. 

Place, Francis, 130. 

Plechanoff, George, 53; quoted, 
200; breaks with the Bakounin- 
ists, 204. 

Pini, French anarchist and robber, 

Police agents, work of, against an- 
archism, socialism, and trade- 
union noveriients, 110-120, 203- 
204; infamous rdles played by, 
in United States, 290-292, 299- 
302, 312-314; list of notable, 
who have played a double part 
in labor movements, 313. 

Policing by the State, a check 
on anarchism of individuals, 

Political action, dependence of 
Marx's program on, 137-141; 
fight of anarchists against, 232; 
criticism of, by syndicalists, 
249 ff . ; direct action placed over 
against, by the syndicalists, 
267 ff. 

Pougatchoff, Bakounin's idealizing 
of, 278. 

Pouget, Emit, French anarchist, 
60; origin of modern syndical- 
ism with, 231; sabotage intro- 
duced by, at trade-union con- 
gress in Toulouse, 235; attack 
of syndicalism on democracy 
voiced by, 264; on the syndical- 
ist's contempt for democracy, 
Poverty, as a cause of reliance 
upon violence by French trade 
unions, 244. 

Propaganda of the Deed, origin of 
tha, 49-52; inspiration of, found 
in the teachings of Bakounin, 
52 ; revolutionary demonstra- 
tions organized under doctrines 
of, 52-54 ; as the chief expression 
of anarchism, makes the name 
anarchism synonymous with vio- 
lence and crime, 55; progress of, 
as shown by anarchist activities 
in Germany, Austria-Hungary, 
and France, 55-60; influence of, 
in Italy, Spain, and Belgium, 
60-61 ; bringing of, to America 
by Johann Most, 62-76. See 

Proudhon, acquaintance between 
Bakounin and, 9; the father of 
anarchism, 129. 

Proudhonian anarchists, inability 
of, to comprehend socialism of 
Marx, 148-149. 

Pryor, Judge Roger A., condem- 
nation by, of use of private de- 
tectives by corporations, 297- 

Pullman strike, emplojTnent and 
character of private detectives 
in, 298-302. 

Ravachol, French terrorist, 79-82, 

Razin, Stenka, leader of Russian 
peasant insurrection, 17; Ba- 
kounin's robber worship of, 278. 

Reclus, filisSe, 14; quoted con- 
cerning Ravachol, 81. 

Hed Flag, Hasselmanu's paper, 56. 

Reinsdorf, August, assassin of 
German Emperor, 69-70. 

"Revolutionary Catechism," by 
Bakounin and Nechayeff, 19-22. 

Rey, Aristide, 14. 

Richard, Albert, 29, 32. 

Rittinghausen, delegate to con- 
gress of the International, quot- 
ed, 162-163; on the futUity of 
insurrection as a policy, 272. 

Robber-worship, Bakounin's, 17, 



Rochdale Pioneers, the, 130. 
Rochefort, Henri, remarks of, on 

anarchists, 70-71. 
Rubin, W. B., investigation of 

character of special police by, 

Rull, Juan, Spanish gang leader, 


Sabotage, danger of use of, in 
United States, 324-325; appear- 
ance of, and explanation, 236; 
as really another name for the 
Propaganda of the Deed, 247. 

Saffi, Italian revolutionist, 42. 

Saignes, Eugene, 30, 31. 

Saint-Simon, 128. 

Salmons, C. H., on outrages by 
private detectives during Bur- 
lington strike, 296. 

Sand, George, 9, 158. 

Schapper, Karl, 131, 141. 

Secret societies organized by Ba- 
kounin, 11-14. 

Shelley, P. B., psychology of the 
anarchists depicted by, 93. 

Small, Albion W., estimate of 
Marx by, 143. 

Socialism, early use of word, 34 n. ; 
split between anarchism and, in 
1869, 47-48, 162-169; rapid 
spread of, in America after panic 
of 1873, 64-65; disastrous eflect 
on, of Most's agitation in Amer- 
ica, 67-68; contrasted with an- 
archism on the point of the 
latter's inspiring deeds of vio- 
lence by terrorists, 90-92; dif- 
ferent types attracted by anar- 
chism and, 92-93; burden of 
anarchism placed on, by Cath- 
olic clergy, 98; growth of, 125 ff., 
202-203; early days of, in 
France, 128-129; in England, 
129-131; in Germany, 131-134; 
Communist Manifesto of Marx 
and Engels a part of the basic 
literature of, 138; the Utopian, 
destroyed by Marx's soientifio 

theory, 144-145; the blending 
of labor and, a matter of dec- 
ades, 145; essence of Marx's, 
found in the Preamble of the 
Provisional Rules of the Inter- 
national, 147-148; routing of, by 
anarchist doctrines in congress 
of International at Basel in 
1869, 162-169; inquiry into and 
exposition of the aims of the 
Marxian, 174-178; attacks on, 
by anarchists after Hague con- 
gress of 1872, 201 ff.; fruitless 
war waged on German social 
democracy by Bismarck, 211- 
227; defeat and humiliation of 
Bismarck by, 225-227; strength 
of, throughout Europe shown in 
elections of 1892, 227-228; dif- 
ference between aims and meth- 
ods of, and those of syndicalism, 
238-239; antagonism between 
syndicalism and, 247 ff.; 266; 
Statism of, criticised by syn- 
dicalists, 249-251, 252; real po- 
sition of, regarding State owner- 
ship and State capitalism, 252- 
258; criticism of, by syndicalists 
on grounds of Parliamentarism, 
261; real attitude of, toward 
control of parliaments, 262-263 ; 
battle of, is against both the old 
anarchists, and the new anar- 
chists of the wealthy class in 
the United States, 325-326; sta- 
tistics of increase in vote of, 
328-329 ; parliamentary strength 
of, 329-331; conditions which 
retard progress of, in United 
States, 332-333; tendency of 
labor movement in all lands to- 
ward, 333-334 ; internationalcou- 
gresses of party, 334; results of 
inseparableness of democracy 
and, 353-354; slow but sure and 
steady progress of, 355-356. 
Sombart, Werner, quoted on syn- 
dicalism and the "social syba- 
rites," 241; quoted on tendency 
of labor movement in all lands 
toward socialism, 333. 



Sorel, quoted to show hostility of 
syndjcaliam to democisoy, 284. 

Spain, revolution of 1873 in, 37- 
41; repression of terrorist tac- 
tics in, 87. 

Spies, August, "revenge circuleir" 
of, 68. 

State, check placed on anarchism 
of the individual by the, 279- 
280; activity of, in opposition to 
labor in United States, 322-324. 

Statism, criticism of, of the social- 
ist party, by syndicalists, 249- 
252; statement of ' attitude 
of socialism toward, 252-258; 
economic f aUacies of syndicalists 
regarding, pointed out by the 
Webbs on their critique of 
Owen's trade-union socialism, 

Steinert, Heniy, quoted on special 
police and detectives, 285. 

Stellmacher, anaichjst in Austria- 
Hungary, 57, 68. 

Stephens, Joseph Rayner, 130, 

Stirner, Max, "The Ego and His 
Own" by, quoted, -105. 

"Study upon the German Jews," 
Bakounin's, 170-171. 

Supreme Court of United States, 
act of, declaring unconstitu- 
tional the eight-hour law on 
Government work, 62-63. 

Syndicalism, program of, outlined 
at congress of International in 
1865, 166-167; forecast of, con- 
tained in Bakounin's arguments, 
185; revival in 1895 of anar- 
chism under name of, 229; ex- 
planation of, and reason for 
existence, 230 ff.; wherein aim 
and methods differ from those of 
socialism, 238-239; connection 
of the "intellectuals" with, 239- 
241; reasons found for, in cer- 
tain French and Italian condi- 
tions, 242-245; essential differ- 
ences between anarchism and, 
245-246; necessary antagonism 
between socialism and, 247 ff.; 

objections to the outline of a 
new society contemplated by, 
259 ff.; criticism of Parliamen- 
tarism of socialism by, 261; at- 
tacks of, on democracy, 264- 
265; antagonism of socialism 
and, in aim and methods, 266 S; 
proven to be the logical de- 
scendant of anarchism, 270-271 ; 
its fate to be the same as that of 
anarchism, 271-272; claim of, 
that revolutionary movement 
must pursue economic aims and 
disregard political relations, 273. 


Tennyson, quotation from, 96. 

Terrorism, doctrine of, brought 
into Western Europe by Ba- 
kounin, 4, 9-10, 17 ff. ; set forth 
in "Revolutionary Catechism" 
by Bakounin and Nechayeff, 
19-22; practical introduction of, 
in insurrections of the early 
seventies, 28 ff., 41—44; criticism 
of, by socialists, 40; advent of 
the Propaganda of the Deed, 
and resultant acts of violence in ' 
Italy, 50-55; carried into Ger- 
many, Austria-Hungary, and 
France, 66-60; doctrine of, 
spread in America by Johann 
Most, 65-68; protest voiced by 
Tucker, American anarchist, 
against terrorist tactics, 70-74; 
failure of, to take deep root in 
America, 75-76; acts of, com- 
mitted by anarchists in France, 
77-89; causes of, 90 ff.; due to 
hysteria and pseudo-insanity, 
93-94; wrong attitude of society 
as to corrective measures, 94- 
98; burden of, placed by Cath- 
olics on socialism, 98-101; glori- 
fication of, in annals of history, 
101; egoistic conception of his- 
tory carried to an extreme in, 
102-106; caused by corruption 
of courts and oppressive laws, 
107-108; complicity of crimi- 

INDEX 387 

nality and, 109 ; use of, by Euro- 
pean governments, 1 10-120, 
219 ff.; introduced into the 
International by Bakounin, and 
straggles of Marxists against, 
154-193; part played by, in 
Bismarck's war on social democ- 
racy, 213, 217, 218; attempts of 
Bismarck to provoke, 219 ff.; 
reaction of, on Bismarck, 227; 
employed by ruling class in 
America, by means of private 
detectives and special police, 

Thompson, William, 130. 

Tolstoi, Berth's characterization 
of, 241. 

Tortellier, French agitator and 
anarchist, 231; declaration of, 
against political action, 232. 

Trade unions, at basis of Spanish 
revolution of 1873, 39; entrance 
into, of anarchism, resulting in 
syndicalism, 231 ff. See Labor 

Tucker, Benjamin R., New York 
anarchist, quoted on "The 
Beast of Communism," 70-74. 


United States, unsettled conditions 
in, after panic of 1873, 62-64; 
development of socialist and 
trade-union organizations in, 
64; Bakounin's terrorist ideas 
brought to, by Johann Most, 
65; acts of violence in, 67-70; 
protests of anarchists of, against 
terrorism, 70-74; failure of anar- 
chism to take firm root in, 75; 
anarchism of the powerful in, 
280 ff.; system of extra-legal 
police agents in, 281-291, 311 ff. ; 
account of tragic episodes in 
history of labor disputes in, 291- 
311; abetting by the State of 
mercenary anarchists in, 322- 
325; figures of socialist and labor 

vote in, 328; socialists of, wholly 
lacking in representation in Con- 
gress, 330, 333; conditions in, 
calculated to retard progress of 
socialist and labor movement, 

Universal German Working Men's 
Association, organization of, 

Utopian socialism destroyed by 
Marx's scientific socialism, 144. 

Vaillant, August, French terrorist, 
79, 82-84, 104. 

Valzania, Italian revolutionist, 42. 

Vincenzo, Tomburri, Italian revo- 
lutionist, 54. 

Violence, analysis of causes of, 90- 
122. iSee Terrorism. 

Vliegen, Dutch labor leader, on the 
general strike, 243-244. 

Yon Schweitzer, leader in German 
labor movement, reported to 
have sold out to Bismarck, 211. 

Yote of socialists and laborites 
(1887-1913), 328, 329. 


Webb, Sidney and Beatrice, eco- 
nomic fallacies of syndicalism 
indicated by, 260-261. 

Weitling, early German socialist 
agitator, 132. 

Western Federation of Miners, 
crimes falsely attributed to, 

West Virginia, governmental tyr- 
anny during labor troubles in, 
217; outrages committed by 
special police in, 292. 

Wickersham, George W., testi- 
mony of, as to packing of a jury 
by private detectives, 289. 

William I., Emperor, attempts on 
life of, 55, 213-214. 



"Words Addressed to Students," 
Bakounin and Necfaayeff's, 17. 

Wyden, secret conference of Ger- 
man social democrats at, 219- 

Yvetot, quoted on syndicalism and 
anaxchisin, 246. 

Zenker, quoted on anarchist move- 
ment in Austria-Hungary, 57- 
58; on association formed by 
Most for uniting revolutionists, 
66; on motives behind deeds of 
violence, 100. 

Zola, psychology Of the anarchist 
depicted by, 93. 







HX 828.H8"""'""'"""^'-""'''^ 

Violence and the labor Movement, 

3 1924 002 64l"""o'52"" ,„